And the Heavens split in two
by Iryann
Summary: Dean knew it couldn't have lasted long. But he knew his apple-pie life was over for certain when Castiel showed up in Bobby's living room. Set one year after Swan Song. AU season 6.
1. Apple Pie Life

"_What are you gonna do now?"_

"…_Return to Heaven, I suppose."_

"_Heaven?"_

"_With Michael in the pit, I'm sure it's total anarchy up there."_

"_So, what? You're the new sheriff in town?"_

"…_I like that, yeah, I suppose I am."_

"_Wow…God gives you a brand new, shinny set of wings and suddenly you're his bitch again."_

"_I don't _know_ what God wants. I don't know if He'll even return, it just…seems like the right thing to do."_

"_Well, if you _do_ see him, you tell him I'm coming for him next."_

"…_You're angry."_

"…_That's an understatement."_

"_He helped. Maybe even more than we realize."_

"_Well that's easy for _you_ to say, he brought _you_ back. But what about _Sam_? What about _me_, huh? Where's my _Grand Prize_? All I got is my brother _in a hole_!"_

"_You got what you asked for, Dean. No Paradise. No Hell… Just more of the same."_

"…"

"_I mean it, Dean. What would you rather have? Peace? Or Freedom?"_

…

"_Well you really suck at goodbyes, you know that?"_

* * *

Dean sighed, dragging a hand down his face to clear his mind from that night. The night he'd last seen his friend Cas. The night he'd set out to fulfill his promise to Sam and forced himself to drive to Lisa's and not to the nearest crossroads to sell his soul for a second time. He had been pissed at Castiel for being such a dick, for leaving him without the chance of asking for a way to save Sam. But after a few days he'd realized that his friend was right. That he _had_ gotten what he'd asked for, and that it was no use crying over it now. But that didn't mean he had to like it. He cleared his throat to remind himself that these were forbidden thoughts, and that he had to shove them to the back of his mind before setting a foot in the house.

All walls now up, the Apocalypse now locked deep into the confines of his head, Dean stepped out of the impala and walked to the front door. The keys of the house jingled in his hand as he opened it. It had been almost a year since he'd showed up on Lisa's doorstep, barely able to keep a straight face as she answered the door.

He chuckled to himself. Who would have thought? Dean Winchester had settled down and actually had a normal house, and had been living with the same woman for practically a year, with a boy that he considered his own kid (practically since the first day he'd met him). He shook his head. Hell, if he hadn't been living like this for a year, he'd almost deny he'd ever have such a life.

Finally getting the door open – one year and he couldn't get the freaking key to work at the first try, _God_ he missed picking locks with a paper clip – he walked in and hung his coat.

"I'm home!" he announced, letting the wonderful smells coming from the kitchen guide his steps.

Lisa was baking. She had her blue apron on, and by the smell coming out of the oven, this was the second pie she was planning on making.

"Hey there, stranger." she smiled, pushing her bangs out of her face with her wrist, trying not to get her dark hair covered in flour.

Dean looked over her shoulder, placing his hands on her hips as he took on the beautiful art piece in the making that was sitting right in front of him on the counter. "Hmm…I love coming back to your apple pie." She laughed, giving him a peck on the lips before focusing back on her master piece. Dean grinned and walked towards the fridge, helping himself to a bottle of beer before leaning on the counter beside Lisa.

"How was work?" she asked, glancing at him briefly before going back to putting the apple pieaces in place.

"It was okay," he answered, taking a sip of the cold beer, "I managed to save Frank's old car today, you know, the old Shelby." The man had a _beautiful_ red 68 Shelby GT500, and he'd finally convinced him that it would be a sin to throw such a wonderful car away. After keeping it stashed in his garage for who knows how many years, the old man was happy to be able to show it off to the neighborhood…and rub it in his wife's face, who'd been moaning about that car being a useless, rusty piece of metal for years.

"Really?" she grinned, "His wife's gonna be _thrilled_."

He chuckled, "He practically burned the rubber off the tires he was so eager to see the look on her face." Lisa laughed.

The front door swung open and Ben made himself known as he noisily dropped his bag on the hallway and ran to the kitchen.

"Hey, mom!" the kid skipped into the room, his face splitting into a grin as soon as he saw Dean, "Dean! You're home early!" he chirped.

Dean chuckled, ruffling the kid's hair with a warm smile, "Yup! Couldn't miss out on your mom's wonderful apple pie."

"You made _apple_ pie?" Ben beamed, "Awesome! We haven't had that one in months!"

Lisa laughed, "That's not true! I made one two weeks ago, remember? For our dinner at the Johnson's." she put her hands at her hips, narrowing her eyes, "But strangely enough, when I went to get it, there was nothing but the crumbs left."

Dean put on a mock frown of confusion, "I don't recall such an event ever taking place," God, he almost sounded like Cas, "Do _you_, Benjamin?" he looked down at the boy, who played along and put a hand to his chin in mock thought.

"Nope! It doesn't seem to have registered." He laughed, "You must be getting delusional, mom."

She gasped in fake offense, "Benjamin Isaac Braden, you take that back right this second, or you won't be having pie anytime soon."

Ben's eyes widened and he laced his finger together, holding them up in a begging gesture, still unable to keep the smile from his lips, "I take it back, I take it back! Pleasepleasepleaseplease!"

Lisa narrowed her eyes, seeming to think it over. Dean came to the little boy's rescue, putting a hand on his brown hair as the kid pulled his best puppy face, "Come on, Lisa, spare him the ultimate punishment. That's cruel, even for you."

"Fine," she gave in, almost managing to suppress the grin tugging at her lips, "He can have pie." She then pointed her wooden spoon threateningly at Dean, "But _you_'re not getting any."

"_What_? What did _I_ do?" Lisa and Ben laughed as he gaped pathetically at her, and Dean felt the cold memories that had attacked him in the car banish.

"Alright, alright…" she smiled, kissing him on the cheek and patting his shoulder, purposely covering it with flour. Ben giggled, and Lisa finally went back to the pie. "Ben, get your bag ready, Miel will be here any minute now."

"Okay!" the boy chirped, running back to get his bag from the hallway.

Dean's green eyes followed after him before turning back to Lisa with a small frown, "Miel?"

"Oh! She's gonna help Ben with his homework," she smiled, "She's a really sweet girl." She looked up at him, "She actually offered to babysit on Fridays."

Dean raised his eyebrows, "Nice." He grinned, "Does that mean we can go out tonight?"

Lisa laughed knowingly, "I thought you might like the idea. There's this new restaurant I've been wanting to try for a while."

Dean smiled, but couldn't help but to worry at the thought of leaving the kid alone, even if it was with a babysitter. Who knew if there were demons out there still waiting to get some payback for locking Lucy downstairs. Lisa must have noticed his concern, as he suddenly felt her hand on his cheek.

"Hey, it'll be okay," she assured him, making his eyes turn to hers, "Ben's smart. He knows what's out there, and you've already warded the house against demons." She offered him a gentle smile, "Besides, it's not like you haven't told him more than enough times what to do when he's alone in the house."

He still couldn't quite believe how well Lisa had adapted to her knowledge of what was really out there. She'd even agreed to let him teach Ben how to use a gun, and how to draw a devil's trap. Hell, she'd even asked him to teach _her_. It was at times like these that he realized how much he really loved her.

"What would I do without you?" He sighed with a smile.

"Worry yourself sick, that's what." She grinned, kissing him lightly on the lips before going back to her pie. "I'm almost done with this, so go take a shower, you smell like oil."

He grinned, "I thought you liked it when I came home dirty."

She smiled, "Oh, I do. But I don't think the people in the restaurant will appreciate it as much."

"Point taken." He tilted his head before going for the stairs, ruffling Ben's hair as he walked past him in the hallway.

* * *

"I'll get it!" Dean walked down the stairs, rolling up the sleeves of his dark shirt to his shoulders as he made his way to the front door. He could hear Lisa walking around upstairs, getting ready to go out for dinner, and Ben playing with his videogame as silently as possible.

He opened the door and was faced with the bluest pair of eyes he'd seen in at least a year. Standing in front of him was a girl that looked to be around 18 years old, her blonde hair pulled into a messy bun. She wore a dark coat that reached to her thighs and jeans, and around her neck was wrapped a very warm-looking blue scarf.

"Hi, I'm Miel," she gave him a sweet smile, "I'm here to help Ben with his homework." She talked with a confidence that seemed odd in her young voice, "You must be Dean."

"What? Uh, yeah!" he was pulled from his thoughts as the girl offered out her hand. He took it, surprised at the strength in her delicate-looking hands, "Dean Winchester," he cleared his throat and put on his usual grin, nodding towards the house, "Come on in." he stepped aside to let her walk in.

She smiled before moving past him and Dean let out a small breath of relief when she walked over the devil's trap hidden under the carpet and nothing _demonic_ happened. He could have sworn he saw the girl's lips curl up knowingly, but Lisa was already walking down the stairs, and Miel had turned to greet her.

"Oh, hi Miel," she said sweetly, "Thank you so much for staying tonight, I hope we didn't ruin any plans for you."

The girl laughed, "Not at all," she assured her, "I tend to go out more on Saturdays, so this is really no big deal."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that," Lisa smiled, she had obviously fallen for the girl's charms, but Dean wasn't so sure he trusted her yet, "Ben, come meet Miel!"

Ben came out of the living room with a grin, "Hi!"

"Hey there!" she replied with a smile of her own.

"I'm Ben," he introduced himself, even though it was more than obvious who he was, "You like video games?" Dean could see the protest about to come out of Lisa's mouth, but it seemed like Miel was not one to be fooled by sweet puppy faces.

"Of course I do," she answered easily, "But you won't be getting anywhere near the TV until we're done with your homework, young man." her voice was playful, but Dean could tell that she wasn't kidding, and apparently, so could Ben.

"Aaw," he whined half-heartedly, walking back into the living room.

Lisa raised her eyebrows in amazement, "Wow," she glanced at Ben's back, "Seems like everything's under control here."

"Yep," she grinned, and Dean actually found himself falling for the girl's smile too—_No, Dean! Focus, man! Focus!_ – Her blue eyes met the ex-hunter's for a second, and again he got the feeling that she knew what he was thinking, "Everything's perfectly under control."

"Alright, I guess we'll leave you to it then." Lisa was clearly relieved that Ben was going to be on a leash, and Dean had to admit that he didn't feel anything dark emanating from the girl…just…strangely familiar…he couldn't quite put his finger on it yet.

"Our numbers are on the fridge," he informed the girl, again slightly taken aback by the wisdom in her gaze, "Just call if you need anything, that little monster can be tough to deal with at times."

"I heard that!" came Ben's voice from the living room.

The laughter that followed seemed to lift up the tension over Dean's stomach, and he was comforted by the honesty in Miel's eyes when she assured them again that everything would be just fine. And so, with a smile, he and Lisa left the house with the confidence that everything would really be okay.

* * *

It wasn't until halfway through dinner that Dean realized why something about her seemed familiar.

Angels.

_Shit_.


	2. Heaven's Split in Two

**Thank you so much for the reviews! Hope you enjoy this new chapter! I'm open to suggestions if any of you have an interesting idea they'd like to share =)**

**Disclaimer: Supernatural is sadly...not mine.**

* * *

"Lisa, we have to go." Dean stood up from the table, green eyes dark with concern at the many possibilities that came with his discovery, "Now."

"But we haven't eve—" she noticed the look in his eyes and frowned, feeling worry nag at the pit of her stomach, "What's wrong?"

"Miel," he mumbled, still deep in his own thoughts, "Son of a bitch, why didn't I see this sooner?"

"_Miel_?" she repeated, disbelief clouding her voice, "What's wrong with her?" at the lack of response, she pulled him back down to his seat, finally snapping him out of his trance, "Dean, what's wrong?" she asked slowly.

"She's an _angel_, Lisa," Dean didn't know whether to be relieved or worried, something that only served to confuse her even more, "Miel's a freaking angel."

"What?" she furrowed her brow in confusion, "Dean, I don't see what the deal is…I mean, sure, she's really sweet but—"

Dean groaned at her misunderstanding, reaching over the table to grab her arms and shake her curtly, "I don't mean _that_ kind of angel, Lisa! I mean she's an actual freaking angel of the Lord!" he whispered harshly, suddenly conscious of the amount of people in the restaurant.

She gaped like a fish out of the water, trying to take in what he was saying, "But…isn't that a good thing?"

"I don't know yet!" he replied, "That's why we have to go back and make sure!" he grabbed her by the arm and raised her to her feet, dropping a few bills on the table before stomping out, dragging a confused Lisa behind.

"Dean!" she finally said, wrenching her arm away from him, "Would you please calm down and explain to me just _why the hell_ we're running out of the restaurant like it's the freaking end of the world!" she demanded.

"There's no time, okay?You just gotta trust me," he kept walking, but turned back once he noticed she was not following him. He raised his arms in frustration, "I'll explain everything in the car!"

She huffed at his lack of answers, but followed quickly until she was running beside him. As soon as they got in the impala and Dean practically burned the road with his tires as they took off, Lisa turned to him with a heated look. "Alright, Dean Winchester, you better explain yourself _right now_!"

"I just told you! Miel is an angel!" his eyes glared at the road as he sped through the streets.

"Well sorry, but that doesn't help me!" she responded, "Because, I don't know about you, but when I realize that my son is being taken care of by an angel, _I don't just run out of a restaurant like a freaking psychopath_!"

"See, that's where you're _wrong_." He replied stubbornly, "Because angels are not actually all fluff and wings, most of them are big ass _dicks_!" he paused, "Or bitches…in this case."

"So, what? Now you're telling me Ben's in danger?" Lisa felt her heart beat faster than ever as she thought of his son locked up in the house with a blood-thirsty creature, "_Why didn't you say so!_"

"_That's what I've been trying to tell you!_" he yelled back.

"Well you _suck_ at explaining! Now you better press down on that pedal or I swear I'll kick you out of the car and drive home myself!" she snapped, her worry venting out in the form of anger.

"You don't have to tell me twice." he growled back, pressing the pedal down flat.

* * *

"Okay, I'm done!" Ben cheered, dropping his pencil on the table after an hour of intensive math-work. He turned pleading eyes to Miel, who was watching him with an amused smile from the chair next to him, "Can I play videogames now?"

She sighed, "Alright, alright," she put the books neatly in a pile and walked towards the kitchen, "You hungry? I can make you a sandwich, if you want."

"Please!" he replied, stomach growling as he flopped down in front of the TV. Miel smiled and disappeared inside the kitchen, leaving Ben alone with his beloved videogame.

After a few minutes, Ben turned his eyes to the hallway and realized that there was no noise coming from the kitchen. Frowning slightly, he turned the TV off.

Nothing.

Not even the sound of the fridge opening, or plates clattering. Nothing.

Curiosity bubbling up inside of him, he stepped quietly towards the silent room, taking care not to let her notice his presence. Taking a slow breath, Ben pressed himself to the wall and took a daring peek into the kitchen. What he saw drew a gasp out of him that gave away his position.

Miel was making a sandwich. But Ben wasn't so much surprised about that as for the fact that the mayonnaise was _floating_ from the fridge to her hand, and that the lettuce and tomato seemed to wash themselves on the tap. Not to mention how they sort of lined up while a knife cut them up perfectly. And in all of this, Miel was just waving her hands lightly to deliver orders to the inanimate objects.

"What the hell?" he whispered in amazement.

Miel's blue eyes turned to him, and she smiled, apparently already long aware of his presence there. Ben could see the amusement shinning clearly in her eyes as she winked at him.

"Sorry," she made a face, "But I'm not exactly good with cooking, so I need a hand with some things…"

Ben, still staring with wide eyes as everything went back to its right place, leaving behind a perfect-looking turkey sandwich that made his mouth water, stepped slowly into the kitchen. "How did you…" he suddenly remembered everything Dean had taught him, and he took a step back, his brown eyes staring into her blue ones, "Are you a demon?"

She blinked twice before bursting out laughing, making Ben blush. "What's so funny?" he snapped.

Miel wiped a tear from her eye before looking back at him with an apologetic smile, "Sorry. I just hadn't expected that one." She sighed, "If I was a demon, I wouldn't have been able to step into this house, Ben. You have a devil's trap at your front door." Ben looked down sheepishly and Miel chuckled, "I guess Dean hasn't told you about my kind, has he?" she wondered, obviously not expecting an answer from the boy.

That was enough to spark the boy's curiosity, relieved at knowing that the girl was not a demon. "Does that mean you're a witch?" he asked, taking a small step forward.

She smirked, "Nope." The boy pouted.

"Come on! Just tell me!" he demanded, crossing his arms over his chest, trying to look menacing.

She smiled warmly at him, taking a breath before looking back at him in the eye.

"I'm an angel, Ben."

There was a pause.

"Yeah, right!" the kid scoffed shakily, "Dean's never talked about angels before, so that can't be true."

"Oh, is that right?" she asked, visibly amused. She chuckled, "And he had warned me about this…" she said almost to herself.

"Who?"

"No one. Just someone who has dealt with Dean before and warned me that you'd probably be just as pigheaded." She saw he was about to protest, but raised a hand, silencing him immediately. "Let me show you then."

The lights flickered, making Ben's eyes dart around him in alarm before they actually set on the girl in front of him. Or rather…on the wall behind her. The boy's eyes widened as he took on the dark shadow of two massive wings that were spread over the wall of the kitchen, not completely extended due to the lack of space, but impressive nonetheless.

Ben gaped like a fish even after the lights when back to normal. His eyes met Miel's, and he found his face breaking into a wide grin as he noticed her amused look.

"So," he cleared his throat, still coming to terms with what he had just seen. Looking up, he tilted his head in a way that reminded her of someone else, "Does that mean you're my guardian angel?"

She laughed, and he gave her a boyish grin.

"I guess you could say that, yeah."

Just then, they heard the sound of tires screeching against the pavement, and Ben flinched.

Miel sighed, "Well, I guess the show's over." She winked at him, "Let's go greet Dean, shall we?"

She walked towards the living room, Ben walking obediently after her. She sat down on the sofa, looking quite comfortable as she waited for something the boy did not know.

Then the front door bust open.

"BEN!" the boy jumped and turned around as Dean and her mother bolted into the room, breathing heavily, like they had run a mile or something. His mom went to his side immediately, pulling him away from the smiling angel, and Dean stepped in front of them with a weird-looking silver dagger, glaring coldly at Miel.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't dunk you in some holy oil and cook myself some angel hot wings."

* * *

The impala screeched as Dean turned into the drive way, yanking the keys from the ignition as he pushed the door open, rushing to his trunk. Lisa jumped out of the car, moving with him.

He opened the weapons compartment in the trunk, and thanked whoever that he had never gotten rid of it. Digging through the numerous knifes and shotguns, he finally found what he wanted, and pulled out the angel-killing sword that Cas had left behind for him. While holding the dagger with one hand, the other one roamed the box for the pitcher of holy oil that was still in there. Once he found it, he patted his pockets to make sure he had a lighter and slammed the trunk shut.

"What is that?" she asked, voice now shaking with worry and fear.

"Just precaution." He said curtly as they ran towards the house.

Practically barreling the door open, Dean rushed to the living room only to find the so-called _girl_ sitting on his sofa. _Smiling_ at him. And if that didn't make Dean mad…

Shaking with barely contained rage, he managed to cool himself down slightly as Lisa pulled Ben behind them, the boy completely dumbstruck by their behavior.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't dunk you in some holy oil and cook myself some angel hot wings."

Miel's face took on the calm stoic mask that he recognized as angel-like, although there was still a hint of a smile on her lips.

"Calm down, Dean Winchester." And Dean just snapped.

"Oh, sure, why don't we just sit down and have a nice little chat?" he said acidly, "No, thanks!" he snarled, "Now, what the hell are you doing here? What do you want?"

"My superior sent me to protect your family." She replied cooly.

Dean's eyes narrowed, "Your superior?"

"Castiel." Her eyes shined, almost daring him to say something.

Dean's eyes widened at that, taken aback by the mention of the angel. But, like always, the adrenaline moved him to bitterness, and he chuckled darkly.

"Oh," he nodded, "So Cas is your _superior_." He scoffed, watching as the angel's eyes narrowed, "Typical. So now that he's all high and mighty, with a new set of wings and all, he doesn't even grace us with his presence." He waved at hand at her, "He just sends his bitch to get the job done."

The lights flickered dangerously, and Dean could have sworn he felt the ground shake as the girl rose from her seat, eyes burning with unrestrained anger.

"How _dare_ you?" she demanded, and Dean actually felt shame at her question, "My brother gave up everything for you, Dean. _Everything_!" she snarled, "He lost his _wings_, became _mortal_, and still followed you to face Michael and Lucifer, and _died_ again for you so that you could have time to talk to your brother." The color drained from his face as she brought the memories forth, "Oh yeah," she grinned bitterly, "I know about that, I was _watching_." And Dean could've sworn she saw her eyes tear up, but he also knew that angels don't cry...or at least, that's what he thought..., "I _watched _as my brother gave his life for you for a second time, and couldn't do a damn thing about it." She smiled, and the former hunter felt a chill travel up his spine, "Did you even thank him?" he felt his heart clench in shame. "For all the things he did for you? Or did you just take it for granted?" she looked away, "And the funny thing is…he still sees you as his friend…" she chuckled without humor.

"So why did he leave then?" he asked, not nearly as angrily as before, and he saw the girl's eyes soften slightly, "Why isn't _he_ here giving me the lecture, huh?"

"Because he was trying to protect you?" he frowned.

"Protect me?" he raised his eyebrows, "Protect me from _what_? No demons or angels or anything have come here in a year." He figured what the response would be, but hoped it wouldn't be true.

"That's because he's been warding you off for a whole year, Dean." She shook her head, "He hasn't come down because he didn't want to give away where you lived." Her blue eyes gave her a sad look, and Dean had to wonder how Miel could be so expressive when all the other angels he'd met had been so stoic…..expect for Gabriel…but he didn't count. "There's a war going on up there." He frowned, when Cas had talked of anarchy, he hadn't imagined a war, "Heaven's split in two. Some angels see Castiel as the savior of the Earth and listen to him, but others blame him for Michael being in the pit…they are looking for blood…and not only Castiel's, but yours too."

Dean took a moment to take all of this in. He closed his eyes. He could feel Lisa's fear and horror at the things Miel had mentioned…Dean had never actually explained what had happened, and Lisa had never asked. He could hear Ben's frightened breaths, almost hear his racing heart…and he was pretty sure the kid was staring at him as if waiting for him to deny everything the angel had said. Great. Now he felt like a dick. Not only had his scared his family to death, but had also been holding a grudge against Cas for the longest time, when the angel had been doing nothing but protecting him and his family from his psychotic brothers. He sighed in defeat.

"So why are you here now?" he asked, "What do you want me to do?" he looked at her, and Miel's eyes were full of sympathy, and Dean had to wonder how was it that the people he knew always forgave his dick-behavior.

"Take Ben and Lisa to Bobby Singer's house." She met Ben's eyes, and Desn saw that she actually gave a crap about the kid. "Castiel will meet us there." Something lightened up inside him at the thought of seeing Cas again, yet at the same time, he didn't think he'd be able to look at the angel in the eye after the bucket of cold water that his sister had just thrown at him.

When he snapped back from his thoughts, he noticed that Lisa had taken Ben upstairs to pack their things, and as he looked around, he saw the angel standing next to him. She seemed hesitant.

"What is it?" he asked softly, a silent apology for all he had said to her and about her brother.

She looked up at him, giving him a brief smile as acknowledgment before it faded.

"You should call your brother." Those five words made his blood run cold, and Dean thought for a moment that his heart had stopped in his chest.

"W-what?" he was too stunned to feel angry at her mention of him.

"Just do it." She gave him a gentle smile, and somehow Dean couldn't get his hands on his phone fast enough. Quickly dialing a number that had never faded from his memory, he put the phone to his ear and held his breath.

At the third beep, a familiar voice answered.

"_Hello?"_

"Sammy?"


	3. Family

"_Hello?"_

"Sammy?" Dean's mind raced with questions, his heart beating too fast, and his skin turning too cold.

_Sam's alive. Sammy's alive? How the hell is that possible? How long has he been out there? Why did nobody tell me? Did Cas bring him back? Why didn't he tell me? Oh right, he's fighting a war up there…did he do it because of what I said the last time we talked? And why the hell didn't Sam come to see me?_

The last question brought his mind to a blunt stop, and Dean couldn't help the anger that rose within him at the thought that his brother had _willingly_ kept this from him. He'd been mourning for a freaking _year_. Feeling guilty and practically going into a big ass depression that Lisa barely managed to bring him out of. Blaming _Cas_ for leaving and not bringing his brother back. _A whole year_. And his brother had been alive and kickin' for who knows how long.

"_Dean?"_ his little brother's voice was dripping with surprise…and fear. Fear that Dean had found out about his existence._ Well sorry, Sammy, but seems like your little secret's out_. He thought bitterly. And suddenly he didn't think he could talk to his little brother. Not yet.

It was too much. He needed time. And he wouldn't talk this out with Sam over the _phone_. _No fucking way_. If his brother had a reason for wanting to stay dead to Dean, he'd have to tell him to his freaking face.

"_Dean? Is that you?"_ Sam's voice brought him back from his thoughts, and Dean winced at the dread in it.

He hung up. Snapping the phone shut with a brisk move.

Bringing a hand to his face, he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to keep back the tears that were stinging to flood from his eyes. He clenched his eyes shut and took a deep breath. After he was sure that he had calmed down enough to face his family, he opened them to see Miel looking at him with the same sad look that she'd seen in Castiel so many times before. Giving her a tense smile, he opened his phone again and dialed Bobby's number.

"Bobby?" he rubbed at his eyes slowly, trying to keep himself calm, "Yeah, it's me, Dean." He didn't give the man time to reply as he paced around the living room, "Hey, listen…something came up. We're driving over to your house, is that o—" Bobby didn't let him finish, assuring him that it was okay while making sure to call him an idjit in the process, and Dean let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, "Thanks, Bobby. We'll be there in a few hours." He hung up, now much more relaxed than a few minutes ago.

"Is everything okay?" Miel's voice was calm, but he could hear the worry in her tone, and once again Dean wondered how she could be so expressive, especially when she was a complete angel, with no fading grace or growing humanity like Cas had been.

"Yeah," he nodded, blinking and biting his lip before dragging a hand down his face, "Yeah…" he saw her nod and heard Lisa's and Ben's steps as they walked down the stairs. He met Lisa's eyes and gave her a reassuring smile, and he could practically see the tension flying off her shoulders as she smiled back. Ben seemed to be taking everything pretty well, and actually grinned when Dean winked at him.

"I made a bag for you," Lisa said quietly as she approached him, her eyes drifting briefly to Miel before handing his old green duffel bag to Dean, "We'll put the things in the car." She kissed him and walked to the door with a hand on the back of Ben's head.

Dean watched them leave, and when he looked back at the angel he saw her looking after them too. Clearing his throat, he got her attention and nodded towards the door, slinging the bag easily over his shoulder. "You coming with us, or are you zapping there?"

She looked at him for a moment, tilting her head just slightly before chuckling as she understood his expression, "I'll come with you. Someone needs to keep your car under the radar, and I don't think it's a good time to brand Lisa's and Ben's ribs just yet."

His lips twitched upward, and Dean found himself liking the young angel…or at least…he thought she was young…younger than Cas anyway. "That might have freaked them out a bit, yeah." He looked around, as though giving the house he'd come to see as home his farewell, "Should we go the—" when he looked back, the angel was not there, and Dean huffed with a repressed smile as he walked out of the house. "Damn angels…"

* * *

Bobby sighed as he hung up the old telephone in the kitchen, frowning at the tiles on the floor for a few moments before dialing another number.

"_Hey Bobby."_ By the way the boy's voice broke, he could tell that Dean had found out about him.

"Hello, boy," he cleared his throat, "Listen, I just talked to Dean," he could almost feel Sam tense over the phone, "He's on his way here, and I think he's bringing Lisa and Ben."

"_Did something happen?"_ Bobby's stomach clenched at the thought, be he didn't know the answer either.

"He didn't say," he paused, "But whatever it is, you have to get over here and talk to him."

"_He already knows I'm alive, Bobby, he called me a few minutes ago."_

"And what did he say?" the old hunter knew Dean, and he could guess what the boy's reaction to hearing his brother's voice after a year of thinking him dead would have been.

"…_He hung up."_ Bobby closed his eyes. _"…Bobby, I'm not sure if this is a good idea, I don't think it's time yet."_ Now that just made him angry.

"You _stupid_ son of a bitch! Don't you go givin' me pansy ass excuses about why you shouldn't see your brother anymore, boy," he snarled, "So he's gonna be mad, _what did you expect?_ He thought you were _dead_, Sam! And sure, you were just giving him the chance to live a normal life, but that doesn't give you the right to keep this from him and you know it. Cat's outta the bag now. So get your act together and get your stupid ass over here, you idjit!"

There was a long silence in the other line, and Bobby knew that his words had gotten to the kid, he knew him too well.

"…_Alright, Bobby," _

The line was cut. Bobby sighed and hung the phone…he only hoped Dean would be able to understand.

* * *

"So…" Lisa started awkwardly in the car, trying to break the silence they had all fallen into, "Angels?"

"Yup." Dean replied, eyes fixed on the road. He glanced at the rear-view mirror briefly, hoping Ben wasn't freaking out or having a tough time sitting next to his not-so-normal babysitter.

"If you're an angel," Ben started, making his mom and the ex-hunter raise their eyebrows in surprise, "Does that mean you can fly?" Lisa tilted her head a bit, also curious to know more about the girl and her kind. And the tension pretty much disappeared after.

Miel chuckled and glanced at the boy in amusement, "You think the wings are for show?"

Lisa's eyes widened slightly, and she looked at Dean mouthing: "Wings?"

Dean smiled and nodded, thinking back to the time when Castiel had showed him his wings to prove that he was an angel. It was surprising that Ben was taking it so well…but then again, kids had a facility to believe in the supernatural that surpassed that of narrow-minded adults'.

"But I only saw the shadows!" he whined, "I wanna see the real thing!"

Miel laughed whole-heartedly at his complains before reaching over to ruffle his hair, "I don't think that's a good idea." She said with a smile.

"Why?" He pouted, crossing his arms over his chest, trying to look demanding.

"Because I'm afraid it would only hurt your eyes." Her tone was genuinely apologetic, "Only certain people can see an angel's true form…and I don't think trying to find out whether you are one of them is worth risking your eyesight."

"But—"

"Trust me, Ben." Dean intervened, knowing the kid could be stubborn when he wanted to. "I've seen someone lose their eyes after seeing an angel…it's not pretty."

"Fine." He grumbled, sinking himself further into the backseat. Lisa and Miel both giggled, and Dean smirked at the boy's antics.

"So, Mel," Dean started, subconsciously giving the angel a nickname, "Will Cas be meeting us at Bobby's, or are we gonna have to call him down?"

_'Mel'_ smiled, "Well, he told me he'd come when we got there, so I don't think you'll need to call him," Dean nodded, satisfied with the answer, "And what's with that change in name? Is _Miel _that hard for you to pronounce?" she didn't sound offended, just curious.

"It's just sort of a default thing with me," he replied with a grin, feeling the memory of Sam's nervous voice fade as he relaxed in his seat, "Plus, Mel's easier to say. Your brother got a nickname too, and he didn't mind, so you get the same."

Looking back at her through the rear-view mirror, Dean was surprised to see her look genuinely happy at the fact that she'd been given a nickname. A warm feeling of protectiveness spread through the hunter, and he frowned slightly. As young as Mel looked, she was an angel. She didn't need protecting. He shook his head. In any case, she was with them now, so if she was willing to protect them, Dean would sure as hell protect her.

With that last thought in mind, he looked back briefly to see Ben nodding off to sleep, his head finally coming to rest on the angel's shoulder.

* * *

Dean turned around in his seat. They had been driving for hours, and both Lisa and Ben were fast asleep in the impala. Mel looked away from the window to meet his eyes, she gave him a smile, and he surprisingly returned it. Dean didn't know why he liked her. She was an angel. Angels were bad business…with the exception of Cas, of course. She seemed to be close to the nerd angel that had been his friend…maybe that's why she didn't seem so bad. He chuckled, so was this what it felt like to have a little sister? Mel tilted her head.

"I don't know. I'm the youngest angel in Heaven, so I don't have any younger siblings." Dean paused. _Did she just—?_

"You were reading my mind, weren't you." It wasn't a question, and the innocent expression of _'who me?' _made him narrow his eyes. "New rule. It took Cas a few months to get this one, but you seem less socially awkward than him…So **no** mind reading. Understand?" He watched as she seemed to think it over before sighing and nodding her head in reluctant agreement. "Good. Now, let's get this over with." He was about to shake Lisa awake when a small lithe hand stopped him. He turned questioning green eyes to stare at clear blue ones.

"I can transport them into the house, if you like," She nodded towards Bobby's old house, "No need to awake them."

He smiled and let his arm relax. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." Dean blinked, and the boy and her mother were gone.

They stayed in a comfortable silence for a few moments before Dean cleared his throat. "Alright. Let's meet your nerdy big brother." He opened the door before she could say anything about the name-calling, and huffed in slight annoyance when he saw her already standing by Bobby's front door. He walked up the stairs and pointed an accusing finger at her. "That's cheating."

To his surprise, she stuck her tongue at him, but he didn't have much time to question her behavior as a very flustered Bobby opened the door, rifle in hand. The old hunter's eyes closed in relief as he recognized the elder Winchester, and the rifle was pointed down and away from the younger hunter's chest. "It's good to see you, boy." He said with a smile, pulling him into a one armed hug.

"You too, Bobby." He grinned, genuinely happy to see his surrogate father after one long year. He eyed the gun and cliqued his tongue, "Can't say this is the warmest welcome I've ever seen, though."

"Shut up, idjit." The old man grumbled good-humoredly. It was then that his tired eyes fell on the young girl standing a few steps beside Dean. He frowned. "Who is she?"

"Cas' little sister, _Miel_." He said, emphasizing her name and receiving a dirty look from the angel that he returned with a raised eyebrow and a grin.

"And what's she doing here?" Bobby asked, oblivious to or simply ignoring the inside joke going between the two. "The Apocalypse, as I understand it, is over. So what's an angel doing back on Earth?" His eyes were questioning, suspicious, and Dean walked past him, clapping his shoulder as he went.

"Don't worry, old man," he assured, his voice light but serious, "She's the good kind."

Bobby eyed the girl for another moment before rolling his eyes and stepping aside with a sigh, "Alright. come on in." Mel smiled politely, and Dean was amused to see that the old hunter was already falling prey to her sweet smile.

Clapping his hands together, Dean made his way to the living room, glancing back at Mel. "Okay. So how long do we wait until Cas zaps in?"

A familiar sound of flapping winds turned his eyes to the center of the room, and Dean couldn't help the feeling of relief at seeing that Cas' eyes still retained the humanity that he had gained in his two years on Earth, even with his mojo completely restored. The low, raspy voice that came from the angel shouldn't have made him smile like it did, nor that slight tilt of the head.

"Hello, Dean."


	4. Angel Cocktail

"Hello, Dean."

The hunter smiled, stepping up to the angel that he hadn't seen in at least a year. "Hey, Cas." He had missed him, even if he'd never admit it out loud. Castiel had become a constant in his life in the battle against the Apocalypse, Lucifer and the other dick angels. They hadn't parted on the best of terms, true; but that didn't mean that Dean didn't appreciate all that Cas had done for him, or that he didn't see him as his nerdy angel friend anymore. He barely noticed Miel and Bobby stepping away from the room to give them space. He coughed, "So, I hear from your sister that you've got quite the mess going on up there, sheriff."

Castiel almost smiled at that, and Dean felt once again the relief of still seeing the humanity that had grown in the angel during his time on Earth. "Yes, you could put it that way." He sighed, "Raphael still doesn't quite like me, I'm afraid."

Dean chuckled and stuffed is hands in his jacket pockets, "Well, if our last encounter is anything to go by, I don't think he'll like me much either."

"He doesn't." The hunter actually laughed at that, finally reaching over and putting a hand on the angel's shoulder.

He smiled, "It's good to see you, Cas." The angel tilted his head, and his eyes narrowed slightly as he looked into what Dean knew to be his soul. Taking a deep breath, he waited. Castiel's blue eyes saddened slightly at what he saw, and Dean could pretty much guess what that had been. _Well, that saves me an awkward conversation…_

"You talked to your brother." Dean looked down, even if he knew that he would receive nothing but sympathy from Castiel.

Clearing his throat, he asked one of the questions that had been rounding his head since he'd heard Sam's voice on the phone.

"Did you bring him back?" He finally brought himself to look up into deep blue eyes, and was surprised to find them full of guilt. He frowned.

"I'm sorry, Dean," he started, looking down and away from the hunter's piercing green eyes, "I meant to tell you, but Sam made me promise I wouldn't…" he looked at him briefly before looking away again, unable to meet his eyes, "Then I was unable to leave Heaven for a long time and—" the angel's words were interrupted as he was pulled into a tight hug. Blue eyes widened as Castiel looked at the side of Dean's head, his arms hanging uselessly at his sides as he tried to understand what was happening. "De—"

"Thank you." The hunter's voice shuddered slightly, and he clenched his eyes closed before opening them again. Cas had saved Sam. He had saved his little brother even when all the hunter had done was berate him for deciding to go back home again. It was at that moment that Dean realized he had never really thanked Cas for everything he'd done for him and Sam, nor apologized for everything he'd lost because of them. Miel was right. He'd taken him for granted. Castiel had every right to abandon him and his family to their destinies, and Dean wouldn't have had the right to resent him for anything. And yet he had.

Awkward arms came around and finally held on to the hunter's back, and Dean felt he might cry or punch the angel for being so freaking forgiving. He settled for hugging him tighter instead. "I'm sorry, Cas." He breathed, "I'm so sorry." Castiel didn't say anything, but he felt the angel's hold tighten slightly in a silent sign of forgiveness, and Dean felt a huge load lift from his heart. Finally realizing that he'd probably scared the angel with this sudden and utter breaking of his number one rule when it came to personal space, Dean stepped away from him, giving him a shaky smile before resetting the space between them.

Castiel tilted his head slightly, as though unaware that this was supposed to be embarrassing for him at all. But then he smiled without really smiling, and Dean felt like everything was really alright. He cleared his throat, feeling lighter now that he'd made things alright between him and his friend. "So, did you want to meet us here for any reason in particular, or was it just to keep us all in one place?"

"A little bit of both, actually." A familiar mocking voice startled him from behind, and Dean snapped around in alarm. "Sorry to interrupt, but I was getting jealous of all the attention my little brother was getting. I'd like a hug too, you know." His eyes were greeted with a smirk that he had last seen in the screen of Sam's computer, and hazel golden eyes that shined with amusement and supernatural power. "Hello, Deano."

"G-Gabe?" Dean gaped at the figure of whom he'd once known as the Trickster, who was calmly chewing on a candy bar, "You're alive?" He looked questioningly at Castiel before turning disbelieving eyes at the archangel. "How? Since_ when_?"

"Well!" he started, obviously glad that he'd asked, "Apparently, banking on you guys was the right thing to do." Dean would be damned if he ever admitted that he was actually happy to see Gabriel, "As soon as Lucifer was back in the box, Daddy decided that Cassie-cat might need some help bringing the family together, so…" he pointed at himself, "Here I am."

The hunter let the words sink in, a subconscious fear tugging at his stomach as he thought of another dead angel that had become annoyingly familiar in their struggle against Lucifer, "Does that mean that Zachariah–"

"What?" the archangel furrowed his brows before chortling as he understood what he meant, "Didn't you hear what I just said?" he waited for a second before rolling his eyes, "My Father brought me back because I _helped_ you, hotshot. Zach did nothing other than trying to_ stop_ you." He raised an eyebrow, "See a difference there?"

"Alright, smartass, I get it," Dean growled, now remembering why Gabriel had gotten on his nerves so much in the past, "But what's that have to do with me? Or Sam for that matter?"

"You need to help us find God." Miel's voice came from the door, and all turned to see her leaning on the frame with a smile, "And we'll also need your help battling against Raphael's side. OUr numbers are very limited...and his angels are walking the Earth freely, taking out their anger on innocent humans, and looking for you and your family for revenge."

"Hi, Melly!" Gabriel beamed, "How was your first trip around these animals? Fun, aren't they?"

Miel smiled at her older brother, walking into the room and coming to stand next to Cas, who looked at her with a small smile. "They're basically like you described them, Gabriel." She grinned, "Although I think Castiel's version of them is a tad more accurate." She glanced expectantly at Cas, suddenly looking like a little girl awaiting approval for a job well done, "So?" she asked, "How'd I do? Not bad for the first time, right?"

Castiel smiled, "You did great, Miel."

Gabriel scoffed, "Better than Cas, at least. Man, talk about socially awkward." Dean grinned, remembering how frustrated he had been when having to explain to the angel the most basic social rules.

Castiel glared at Gabriel half-heartedly, and Miel laughed. Dean was surprised to see how much they actually looked like a family. This made him think of Sam, and he felt his momentary happiness being tarnished a bit.

He still had to face Sam. He sighed, dragging a hand through his short hair, he certainly didn't look forward to it; which was ironic, because he'd been missing his brother like crazy for a year, and had been struggling not to go sell his soul more than a thousand times. And now that he was alive…what? Well, for starters, Sam had kept him in the dark about it. Second, he'd made Cas (and probably Bobby) promise not to tell him, and made them feel guilty about it in the process. And hey, had he mentioned that he hadn't been told of his brother's return to the world of the living?

He groaned inwardly. He was going to get angry at Sam. He knew it. He didn't want to. But he would. Because he had every right to be. And because he felt betrayed by his brother. I mean, what the hell? If Sam walked in with an excuse like _I wanted you to have a normal life_, he would shoot him in the face. Because that's just crap.

"Dean?" Dean snapped out of his trance to see three angels glancing at him questioningly, two with concern in their eyes and one with the ever-living amusement shining in them.

"Sorry." He cleared his throat, shaking his head slightly, "What were you saying?"

Castiel seemed to understand what he was thinking, and left the issue alone – thing that Dean was immensely grateful for – but Mel still hadn't been around the walking enigma that was Dean Winchester long enough to understand that he just wanted to be left alone in the matter.

"We were saying that we'll have to ward this house against any angel of any class other than us three, for the sake of your family's safety. And because they'll have to stay here when you and…" Cas' voice faltered slightly before mentioning his brother, but Dean ignored it, "Sam…have to accompany us in our search for God and all the angels gone rogue."

"Of course." He nodded, thankful that they were keeping his family in mind, although he was pretty sure that Lisa was not going to like this one bit.

"So you're sayin' these boys are gonna go off and fight _angels_ with you three?" Dean almost jumped out of his skin at Bobby's grumbling voice at the door, and again he wondered how long he had really been spacing out. "I know they're practically suicidal," Dean glared at the old hunter, "But that don't mean you can just take'em to face more than one of your kind. They're still human." Bobby had a point there.

"That's true. I don't think your angel swords will be enough if we do get to the point where we have to fight. That's crazy, even for us, Cas."

The angel nodded understandingly, but before he could reassure them, Gabriel beat him to the punch.

"Well, no need to fear, ladies, Melly came up with a brilliant idea to give you some advantage." He winked at the lesser angel, who glared at him in annoyance…something that lead Dean to think that it had actually been _Gabriel's_ idea.

"Uh huh." He deadpanned, eyeing the archangel carefully, "And what's that?"

"Oh, not much. You'll just have to drink a few sips of angel cocktail every day." He grinned, "The results are guaranteed and immediately visible, if you're still not satisfied, we…will keep your money. Sorry."

Dean had an idea of what the angel was saying, but he only hoped it was the wrong one. He looked at Cas, and by the look in his blue eyes, he'd guessed it just right. "Please, tell me it's not what I think it is…"

Cas sighed, seemingly just as happy as Dean about this development.

"You'll have to drink angel blood."


	5. Like an Angel

"Angel blood?" The words resonated around the silent room. Dean's eyes roamed everyone's faces. It seemed like no one was happy with the idea. Not even Mel. He wasn't surprised to see that Gabriel didn't seem the least bit sorry about informing him of this…development.

Closing his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose, Dean took a deep breath to calm himself, hiding his face from the rest by looking down. After deeming himself calm enough to face the facts, he looked up at Castiel, who seemed just as anguished as he felt about the idea.

"There has to be another way." His voice was serious, his face stoic, but his eyes were pleading at the angel, "Cas, tell me there's another way."

Castiel sighed. And that was really more than enough of an answer, but Dean needed to hear it from him. "I'm sorry, Dean." He looked away briefly before meeting his eyes, "But in order for you and Sam to be strong enough…" he hesitated, struggling for a way to put it gently – something that he wouldn't have bothered with during his first months on Earth –, "You can't face a group of angels the way you are now…it's too dangerous, and I—" he looked down, "I won't always be there to fight them for you."

Dean could see the guilt in Castiel's eyes. It was obvious he didn't want this any more than he did. But before he could try to give any ideas, Gabriel saw it fit to interrupt.

"Look." The amusement was gone from his eyes, and Dean was reminded of the warehouse where the archangel had told them of their _inescapable_ destinies. Golden eyes focused so intently on Dean that the hunter almost felt the urge to take a step back. "I know your family has an ugly history with demon blood. But I really don't see why you're already rejecting the idea." Dean's eyes darkened in anger.

"You don't _see_ it?" He snarled. But before his wrath got the better of him, Gabriel interrupted him again.

"No. I don't see it." Gabriel was losing his patience; that was never a good thing. Dean forced himself to calm down, but his eyes were still glaring daggers at the archangel, who didn't seem the least bit intimidated. "For starters, how do you know angel blood will have the same effect that demon blood did? Huh?" the hunter frowned at that, the idea had obviously not occurred to him. "Exactly." Gabriel stated, his lip curled up in an almost snarl, "So why don't you stop dramatizing before we even have the chance to explain…and shut your cake-hole for a minute?" A quick snap of his fingers, and Dean and Bobby found that their voices had been taken from them.

Castiel frowned, sending a disapproving look at the archangel. "Gabriel."

"No, Castiel." The angel retorted, "I'm sick of these guys' attitude. You can let them disrespect you and treat you like a tool, but I will not accept that." He turned golden eyes back to the hunters, "Now listen to me _very_ closely. Because I'm only going to explain this once." Any trace of amusement had long disappeared from his expression, "_When_ you drink the little insignificant amount of blood we will give you - and you _will_ drink it -, your strength, speed and mind will develop in ways you have never experienced." His anger seemed to tone down as he perceived no fight coming from them, "You'll be faster, stronger. You'll be able to see an angel's true form without your eyes burning out of your skull." He paused slightly, as though analyzing the impact of his words before continuing, "And with every day you take the blood, you will heal faster, to the point where you'll heal practically as fast as any of us. But it'll take years before you get there." He narrowed his eyes. "Are we all on the same page now?"

Both hunters nodded, not wanting to anger the archangel further. Gabriel could get freaking scary when he wanted to.

"Good." With a quick snap of his fingers, their voices were back. Bobby eyed the archangel carefully.

"That's all very well," he started, knowing he was risking angering Gabriel again, "But it sounds to me like you're keeping some ugly aftereffects to yourself."

Castiel answered before Gabriel had a chance to take out his annoyance on the old man, stepping in front of the archangel, "The effects of angel blood on a human being differ from those of demon blood." He started, trying to appease both parties, "But, if too much blood is ingested at once, your bodies will grow accustomed to it and will weaken without the constant consumption of it."

"Oh, good. So we only need to be careful not to overdose. Well, that's just peachy." Dean wished he'd kept his mouth shut when he saw the shame cross Castiel's eyes. It really wasn't the angel's fault. He sighed, "Alright. Should we wait for Sam to come or do I get to drink the angel cocktail now?"

"We'll wait for Sam. We're not sure if his body will be able to take it yet." The angel's words made him frown.

"What do you mean?"

Apparently, Gabriel had calmed himself down enough to answer without his eyes threatening to smite him where he stood. "He means that your brother will not be able to drink it if he hasn't kept himself clean."

Dean could feel a protest rise up his throat, the urge to the defend his brother coming out as naturally as breathing, but he swallowed it down. He couldn't be certain that Sam hadn't drunk any demon blood while he'd been alone. Not that he doubted him; Sam had clearly shown he was sorry for what he'd done, and Dean had seen how hard he'd tried to stay clean during the incident with Famine. But he'd also had to drink gallons of blood before facing Lucifer, and it was possible that his body had grown too dependent on the damn demonic poison for him to just quit.

Heaving a sigh, he scratched the back of his head, nodding numbly while keeping his eyes on the floor. "Right." His eyes didn't stop moving, unable to meet any of the angels' questioning or worried looks. "We'll wait for him then."

When he did look up, he saw the silent apology in Castiel's eyes, and nodded briefly, informing him that he was okay. Even if he knew the angel could just look inside him and see that he wasn't. But Cas just nodded back in understanding, turning his eyes to his sister.

"Miel," he started, "I have a new assignment for you."

Clear blue eyes looked up to meet his ocean colored ones. "Yes?"

Cas seemed to hesitate before speaking, as though he expected Mel to not like what he was going to say. "You are to stay here and take care of Ben. Make sure that no harm comes to him."

The young angel's eyes lit up in frustration as she understood what her brother was doing. He was keeping her away from the fight. She would be lying to herself if she said that didn't bother her at all – she felt more than ready to fight alongside her two favorite brothers in the war against Raphael and his angels – but she could also see that Castiel was only trying to keep her safe. Besides, she'd grown attached to the little boy. The thought of anything bad happening to him brought an uneasy feeling to her stomach, and she knew that being here with him would bring her peace of mind.

Taking a deep breath, she nodded. "I understand." She looked up at her brother and smiled, letting him know that she really did understand, and was not angry at him. Cas gave her a small smile of his own, the tension in his shoulders decreasing slightly.

Dean watched all of this in silence. It was odd to think of Cas as an older brother to anyone. Sure, he'd always known angels consider themselves brothers in arms and all…but he'd never expected him to be as close to any of them as he'd been with Sam. And the thing was, he could see it in Gabriel too. The archangel was genuinely smiling at the exchange between Cas and Mel, as though he'd also been worried that she wouldn't accept her orders. He had to wonder then if any of the angels Castiel had killed for him and Sam had ever been as close to him as Mel and Gabriel seemed to be. His eyes met with the archangel's, and by the dark look that suddenly shined in his hazel eyes, he knew that was probably the case.

He'd have to ask Cas later.

Or maybe he'd ask Gabriel.

He glanced at the archangel again, who raised an eyebrow at his thoughts. Somehow, Dean knew that Gabriel wanted to have a talk with him as well.


	6. ReIndoctrination

**Thank you so much for all the reviews! I'm glad you're all liking the story so far. If you have anything you'd like to comment on, or any ideas you'd like me to consider for the plot, please leave a review! I'll be more than happy to answer questions, and I certainly appreciate all of your ideas!**

**This chapter is basically Gabriel's rant for the way Dean has treated Cas. Hope you don't find it too boring, I promise more action will come later (-cough-and Sam-cough-).**

**Anyway. Enjoy =)  
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"Hey, Cassie!" the angel turned away from Mel to face the archangel.

"What is it, Gabriel?" He frowned slightly, as though he couldn't think of anything Gabriel would want to ask him. Plus, he didn't seem to like that nickname much either.

"Could you and Melly get the warding symbols done?" Dean could see the question in Castiel's eyes, "I bet the old dog would love to learn a few new tricks." Bobby glared at the archangel, but the interest was visible in his eyes. Gabriel raised an eyebrow, "So? How about it?"

Castiel studied him for a moment before heaving a small sigh, "Of course." He turned to the younger angel, "Miel?"

Mel eyed Gabriel with narrowed eyes, as though she could see something Castiel had missed. Whatever it was, she decided not to comment on it as she turned to Cas with a smile, "Let's go."

Castiel's eyes softened before he looked back at Bobby and tilted his head. The old hunter grumbled like usual, making his way towards the porch. "Yeah, yeah, come on. Let's see what you got." He walked out of the room mumbling under his breath, "Idjit."

Miel giggled as she followed after the old hunter, Castiel walking closely behind her. The angel glanced back briefly before leaving the room. It was only after the front door closed that Gabriel turned to face Dean.

Angels must take freaking lessons of staring upstairs, because Dean was dying to just walk out of the room. And he thought _Cas_' stare was bad enough. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

"I'd love to have a staring contest with you, I really would, but I don't know if I'm up for it at the moment, so if you wouldn't mind _blinking_, I'd be a little bit less creeped out." He didn't like the smile that curved up the archangel's lips. "What?"

"Nothing." The archangel finally blinked, and the creepy stare toned down significantly, "I just can't get over how pigheaded you are. It's really hilarious."

Dean glared at him, "What is it, Gabe?"

"Oh. And here I thought _you_ wanted to ask _me_ something." He smirked, "Or was I hearing things when you wondered about my family?"

The hunter felt his throat tighten. So Gabriel _had _read his mind. Well shit. He might as well ask. He looked away before hesitantly meeting the archangel's golden eyes.

"Did…" he cleared his throat, his eyes going subconsciously to the window, "Were any of the angels Cas killed uh…close to him?" It took him a few moments to finally look at Gabriel in the eye.

Gabriel's eyes were not filled with amusement in the slightest. "They were his brothers. What do you think?" his lip curled up in an empty smile, "You thought that just because he's an angel and doesn't understand human emotion that well he wouldn't care as much for his family as you do for Sam? Is that it?" Dean didn't protest, that was exactly what he'd thought. "Well, you're wrong. Sure, he might not have raised any of his brothers like you did Sam, but that doesn't mean it was any easier for him to stand against them." Golden eyes shined as he walked closer to Dean, "Did it ever occur to you, that when you asked him to help you save Sam, you were asking him to fight against his own family? To kill his own brothers?"

The question felt like a sucker punch to his stomach. That day. When Dean had asked Cas to help him, to help him stop Sam from breaking the last seal. Cas had looked scared, had hesitated to make a decision that Dean knew he wouldn't have made if he'd been put in that position. He'd barely given him time to consider it before bashing him for being a _spineless, soulless son of a bitch_.

_Shit, I'm such a dick._

"Damn straight." Dean glared at the archangel.

"Well, you're not exactly brother of the year either." He snarled, feeling guilty but not about to let the archangel teach him anything about morals. "It's not like you were exactly all _loving and caring_ when Cas walked into your damn TV Land last year."

Gabriel's eyes darkened considerably, and Dean didn't know whether to step back or smirk for having touched a nerve. "Listen to me, dickhead." Ooh, he was pissed. "Castiel is my brother. And I love him." His eyes gleamed with threatening intensity; clearly spelling _If you don't shut up I will smite you where you stand_.

But Dean wanted answers, and if he was anything at all, it was stubborn.

"Well, your definition of love must be a different one." He moved his feet slightly before talking, narrowing his eyes and tilting his head questioningly, "Cause _that_ didn't exactly seem like brotherly love to me."

Gabriel actually looked away for a moment, but Dean saw the guilt before he could hide it. When the archangel's eyes met his again, they were impenetrable as ever. "I was teaching him a lesson."

_That_…was not what Dean had expected. "What?"

Gabriel didn't seem happy with having to explain himself, but apparently this was _Open-up-and-spill-your-guts_ day, and Dean knew the angel would answer. "I had heard something about Cas leaving Heaven. But I didn't know it'd been to help _you_ _guys_." His eyes seemed more focused on the memories than on the hunter, "But when he broke into the illusion..." he looked away, a humorless smile tugging at his lips, "I kinda put things together and well…"he glanced at Dean, "You could say I wasn't very happy about it."

Dean frowned, "So what, you decided to spank him for being a bad angel? That it?" he was getting mad. Then Gabriel got serious. Scarily serious. There was not even a fake smile that kept him in character with his identity as the Trickster. He could feel this had something to do with him, because the only emotion in the angel's eyes was piercing through him like a butcher knife. Blame.

"No. I hurt him to show him where the road that he'd picked was leading." He snarled, and at the confusion in Dean's eyes, he elaborated, "To show him that you two would be the death of him."

The room was suddenly filled with a heavy silence that lasted for a few moments before Gabriel shattered it with a bitter laugh, "And what d'you know? I was actually right." He walked around the room, "Although, when you asked me to bring him back, I actually thought: _Hey! It might not be that bad_. _At least he has_ _**friends**_." Dean winced at the emphasis Gabriel punctuated on that word. He'd already gotten a lecture from Miel. But he knew the archangel had the right to be mad as well.

He took a breath and readied himself to take the blunt of his anger, eyes never leaving the angel.

"_Seven times_." Gabriel was obviously making an effort to remain calm, "Seven times has my little brother risked his life and/or _died_ because of you and your brother." Dean blinked in confusion. Gabriel looked at him with a heated glare. "Should I count them for you?" he didn't wait for Dean to answer as he kept on walking around, "Let's start with the obvious one, shall we? Cas agreed to help you and got blown to pieces for his trouble." He glanced at the hunter with a bitter smile before continuing, "With your little trip to the future," Dean's eyes widened, he didn't think anyone else knew about that, but Gabriel kept talking, "Maybe I should have showed it to him, might have convinced him that following you would do him no good." He sighed, looking at the window, as though he could see Castiel through the wooden walls, "He knew." The hunter swallowed, having an idea of what he was talking about and hoping to God –if he was even freaking listening – that he was wrong.

"Knew what?" he asked quietly.

"He knew…" Gabriel hesitated, "…that the mission was suicide. He knew you were sending him to his death."

They stayed in silence for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts. Dean's mind was racing with images and sounds of that night.

"_Lucifer is here. Now. I know the block and I know the building."_

"_Oh good! It's right in the middle of a hot zone."_

"_Crawling with croats, yeah. Are you saying my plan is reckless?"_

"_Are you saying we uh…_walk in _straight up the drive way, past all the demons and the croats and we shoot the devil?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Okay. If you don't like uh…reckless, I could use _insouciant_, maybe."_

"_Are you coming."_

"…_Of course…"_

Dean looked down in horror, eyes wide in sudden realization. _Cas knew. He knew he would die. He knew he'd be bait. _

Gabriel's eyes momentarily shined with sympathy before he cleared his throat and went on. "So that's _two deaths_ so far. Then the little trip down memory lane, of course." Dean couldn't meet Gabriel's eyes anymore. The archangel seemed especially angry with this case, "He actually _warned_ you about it. Told you that it would _weaken_ him—" The hunter tried pathetically to defend himself, more as a default reaction to the accusation than anything.

"He didn't say it'd—" His voice lacked the usual strength and confidence that was always present in it, and was easily put down by the archangel's anger.

"_Kill him_? That what you were gonna say?" Dean sank down on the sofa, staring at the ground as images of an obviously afraid Cas ran through his mind. "Maybe he should've been more clear. He could have just said:" Gabriel's voice lowered down to imitate Castiel's hoarser pitch, "_Dean, if I take you both to the past, I'll die. I can't do it, Dean. It'll kill me._" Dean cringed at the angel's voice, "That clear enough for you, pretty boy?"

The young man's hands gripped the short strands of his hair as he kept his gaze the floor, while Gabriel's voice kept stabbing him with a renewed sense of guilt.

"Oh! And what about the time that you _abandoned_ him after he was cursed by that goddamn Whore of Babylon? You think he had fun dealing with a massive hangover – his _first hangover_, if I might add –, trying to rid himself of a curse, _and_ dealing with a deadbeat dad? Must have been _one hell_ of a party." He continued to walk around the room, eyes to the walls, "What's next? What's next? Hmm…Oh!" he glared at Dean, "How could I forget?"

Dean knew what was coming. Because there was something worse than neglecting a friend's pain and sacrifice. Worse than showing no appreciation for everything he'd done and lost for them. And that was betrayal.

He'd betrayed Cas.

Dean had knowingly used the sigil Cas had taught him to send him away and break out of the panic room. He'd known the angel would not hesitate to open the door if he thought Dean's life was in danger. He'd known Cas would fall for it. Because, no matter how big of a dick he was to Cas, the angel always responded. Always. And he'd known that.

"You know, of all the things you've done to him," Gabriel commented, a hand on his chin, "That might just be the dickest move of all." He tilted his head, a gesture that was by no means the confused and motion he'd seen in Castiel so many times before, but rather an expression of anger and contempt, "Did you have _any_ idea of where you were sending him, you heartless bastard?" Dean shook his head, unable to meet his eyes, "Of course you didn't. He barely made it out of that one with his wings, hotshot." He snarled, "Just in time to give you the beating of your life, actually." He clicked his tongue, "Pity he didn't take it further."

Dean could still feel the punches and kicks he'd gotten from Cas that night. He'd deserved each and every one of them.

"He wasn't so lucky the next time, though." Gabriel's voice sounded saddened, and Dean cringed at the thought of what might have happened to Cas after he'd disappeared from that warehouse.

"W-wh—" he cleared his throat, trying to find his voice, "What happened to him? Why couldn't he—"

"Fly?" Gabriel interrupted again, "Oh, I don't know. What do you think happens when you're back behind enemy lines for the second time in less than 24 hours?"

Dean looked at him, a begging expression in his eyes, making Gabriel look away as he answered his silent question.

"They were ready for him." He fixed golden eyes on the windows, "They hit him where he was most vulnerable."

The implication of his words hit him like a ton of bricks to the head.

"His wings." He breathed.

"It was practically the last thing he had that hadn't been already weakened since his rebellion." Gabriel nodded, speaking quietly, eyes hazed with memories as his eyes got lost in the landscape outside, "He used to be so fast." He almost whispered longingly, "If you could have seen how happy he used to—" the archangel stopped himself, clearing his throat as he looked away from the window and to the floor. Suddenly, he burst out laughing. A humorless laugh, so bitter that it made Dean cringe. "But then again, how would you know? You only ever saw him as a tool, didn't you? He was just _there_. He was the angel. He didn't need any help. Didn't need you to worry about him. He wasn't even huma—"

"I'm sorry! Alright! I didn't know!" He finally snapped, bringing himself to glare heatedly at the angel, green eyes dark with anger and guilt.

"Exactly!" The archangel roared, silencing the hunter, "_That!_" he pointed at Dean with a wide and bitter smile that showed no sympathy or humor. "_That right there_…is the answer to the question, Dean Winchester." He snarled, "You. Didn't. Know."

Dean gripped the short strands of his hair, eyes glaring at the floor as he tried his hardest to keep them dry. Gabriel didn't need to keep talking, Dean already knew the rest of his dick moves to Cas. The names Pestilence, Michael and Lucifer echoed loudly inside his head. They stayed like that, in silence, for at least five minutes, and when Dean ventured a look up, he noticed that Gabriel didn't even look angry anymore. He was just staring out the window with a thoughtful look, his shoulders down.

"You know the funny thing is…" Dean flinched a bit when the angel started talking, not having expected him to even want to direct a single more word at him. Gabriel cleared his throat, "that I should have seen this coming."

"What?" he croaked, voice still heavy with guilt.

"Cas had always been too damn curious for his own good," Dean was surprised to see him chuckle at that, "Always asking questions, always tugging at me to answer them," he could hear the longing in the angel's voice, "And I answered him when I could, because if I didn't he would just get down here and try to find the answers himself," he snorted, "He practically drove Raphael crazy with all his flying around being so…_un-soldier-like_, I guess."

For a moment, Dean pictured a toddler with dark hair and big blue eyes flying around with small, dark wings at his back. He smiled, letting out a breath that could have been a chuckle.

"But Cas was fast even back then," Gabriel went on, "Hell, I had every intention of taking him under my wing and make him a messenger, kid was almost faster than me." The smile faltered, and Dean's eyes were now fully on the angel, "But I guess Raphael got to him first." The hunter frowned; the implications of those words were not good.

"What happened?"

Gabriel turned to face him, "You could say he…beat the discipline into him," Dean felt anger rise in his chest, he couldn't get the image of a little angel being mistreated out of his head, "Castiel never asked questions again. You could still see the curiosity in there, from time to time, and he might have even cracked a small smile at times…but he was never the same again." And humor be damned, Gabriel actually sounded genuinely _sad_ about that. "Kid had so much potential," he chuckled, "Learned tricks after seeing them the first time…it was so easy to make him laugh back then."

Dean looked down, wondering what it would've been like to meet Cas before he was re-indoctrinated, before he was just another good little soldier. The image of Mel's easy smile suddenly came to his mind, and he looked up at the archangel, who looked lost in his own thoughts.

"What about Mel?" he asked.

"What about her?" he could almost hear the protectiveness in his voice.

"How come she's so…human?" Dean chuckled, "Hell, I almost confused her with a normal girl with that smile."

Gabriel's face split in a grin again, "Ah, Melly." He looked out the window again, "She was kind of like Cas when she was younger." Dean's mind again pictured a little blonde girl with big, clear blue eyes, "Asked too many questions, was too curious about humans…" he chuckled, shaking his head and looking down, "She and her brother are one of the few angels I missed when I left." Something told Dean he wasn't talking about Cas in this case.

"Her brother?"

"Her twin, actually," he said, "Miel's name is actually Ramiel," he laughed, "She's never liked it when I called her by her full name, so I only use nicknames with her," the fondness in his smile seemed almost out of character, "Her brother is just a couple minutes younger than her, Elijah," he laughed, "Eli…that boy's too much like me for his own good."

Dean pictured a mini Gabriel. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad one. "So what happened? Why didn't they get the games beat out of them?"

The archangel's smile was not a happy one, "I got to them first." He said, "Eli, being the youngest of all Heaven, was always a favorite in everyone's eyes," he smiled, "He was put in charge of the Tree of Life," he raised his eyebrows, "Raphael actually trained him without too much coercing on Michael's part," his voice lowered down to a whisper, "Lucifer loved that kid."

Dean looked down, clearing his throat quietly before asking, "And Miel?"

"She had it a bit harder," the fondness was back in his voice, and Dean had to wonder how could he have ever thought Gabriel was a bastard that didn't give a crap about his family, "Ramiel is the angel of joy and hope," he started, "Her laughter echoes around Heaven, and her sadness darkens the skies." He breathed, "No one ever wanted to see her unhappy, not even Raphael," he chuckled, "But the kid could not stop still one second, so I took her under my wing and taught her about humanity, made her a messenger." He smiled with pride, "At some point, she was allowed to answer prayers of people seeking hope and happiness, and she was allowed to go down to Earth more often."

Dean smiled, he remembered the ease with which Mel had convinced him that everything would be alright back at Lisa's house. Her smile was most certainly contagious back then.

"She loved Lucifer," he said sadly, "She was the only one he allowed to touch his wings," Dean winced, "She could never look at Michael the same way after he cast Lucifer down and…" he paused, "Well, you could say she matured and took on a more…motherly attitude towards everyone in Heaven." Dean had never seen Gabriel look so ashamed of himself, "When I left, she tried to take care of Eli, and when Castiel rebelled she watched him and tried to advocate for him in front of Michael."

Dean remembered the day Cas faced Michael and Lucifer, giving up his life so that he could have 5 minutes to try to talk to Sam. He remembered the fear in the angel's eyes when Lucifer directed his wrath towards him.

And then he was gone.

In an instant, Cas had been literally obliterated in front of him. It was the first time he'd actually seen the angel die. And he hoped it would be the last one.

"Look," Gabriel broke him out of his thoughts, and he looked up to meet his eyes, "I'm not asking you to give him a daily hug or anything," Dean would have smiled if the image of Castiel's death wasn't engraved in his mind, "But you could at least try to treat him more like a person…" he paused, "Why he never stopped considering you a friend is a mystery to me, but then again, you were probably the first one outside of Miel, Eli and me who didn't treat him like a soldier."

Any words Dean would've liked to say in response to that were interrupted by the sound of cheerful laughter and familiar grumbles from an old hunter. Gabriel and Dean turned to see Cas, Mel and Bobby walk back into the room, seemingly discussing Enochian sigils.

"Come on, admit it." Mel teased, "You had never seen half of those symbols before."

Bobby sounded like a grumpy old man with his granddaughter, "Alright, fine!" Mel smiled triumphantly, and Dean could see that the old man had already gotten attached to the young angel.

"Well, I'll be," Dean said, a smirk tugging at his lips, "One day and you already got Bobby to admit his ignorance," he winked at Miel, "That's gotta be a record."

"Ha, ha, ha," Bobby glared at him halfheartedly, "Idjit."

"Good job, Melly!" Gabriel congratulated, "Knew I could count on you to outsmart the old dog." He had a shit-eating grin on his face again, one that Mel appeared to see right through as soon as she looked at him. Thankfully, the angel didn't say anything, but gave them a grin of her own.

"Thanks boss!" she joked, and Dean actually chuckled at that. Thinking of Gabriel as chief messenger of the man upstairs was still odd in his eyes.

Dean glanced at Castiel, who was looking at his brother and sister with his usual soldier-like countenance, but after knowing the angel for so long, Dean could see the fondness in those blue eyes. Cas must have noticed he was being watched, because suddenly those blue eyes were on him, and the angel smiled without really smiling again.

The hunter took that as another silent forgiveness, and felt a genuine smile tug at his lips.

* * *

_*The character Elijah is property of Apollo199199, from her fanfic "**Passing the Torch**". Thank you for letting me add him to the story!_


	7. Half Demon

Dean awoke to the purring motor of a car rumbling outside. Brow furrowed in a frown, he rubbed his eyes and looked around the room. He remembered Bobby grumbling something about going to bed at 4 in the morning, and he himself hadn't held out much longer. Looking down at himself, he raised an eyebrow as he noticed the old blanket covering him – although it was mostly on the ground now that he'd sat up. The sound of light breathing drew his eyes towards the person he was apparently sharing the sofa with.

Mel was asleep at the other end of the couch; her head leaning on the armrest, her body was curled up in a ball. She sort of reminded him of a cat, all curled up to sleep like that.

Wait.

…Sleep?

Since when did angels sleep? Cas had never slept when he was a full angel. At least, not that Dean knew. Nah, if Cas had ever fallen asleep somewhere, he would've known. Maybe. No, probably. He would have. Right? He shook his head, clearing the painful thoughts from his mind.

Still. He watched the young angel sleep peacefully in front of him. He'd have to ask her about it later.

Sitting up straight, Dean squinted in the dark, trying to make out whether or not there were more sleeping angels around. The quiet voices coming from Bobby's kitchen told him where the other two were, and he allowed himself to relax.

Headlights shone through the window, making Dean wince at the sudden light that broke through the darkness of the room. Oh, right. The car.

Giving the sleeping angel one last glance, he walked over to the entrance, tugging a gun into his jeans as he stepped carefully toward the front door. Heavy steps could be heard from the other side, and a metallic jingle as whoever had decided to visit Bobby started to try open the door. They had a set of keys? No, they were probably just picking the lock. Dean pointed his gun at the door at chest height, eyes half open from exhaustion as the door finally opened, his eyebrows set in a frown.

A tall figure entered the house, turning their back to Dean to close the door as silently as possible. But the hunter had already lost the ability to breathe.

"Sam?"

The man jumped at the sound of Dean's voice, turning around slowly to face him, the tension clear in the set of his shoulders. Dean had a hard time not dropping his weapon as his heart clenched at the sight of his little brother, standing before him after one year of thinking him dead.

One year of thinking him dead.

One year of living with himself and his guilt while Sam had actually been alive and kicking for probably quite some time.

The pain of betrayal darkened his features, and Dean took a few steps back from Sam, who was still staring at him with an expression hidden by the darkness of the room.

"Hey Dean."

_Fear._

There was fear in his little brother's voice. Dread of what Dean might think of him after having hidden himself for so long. Dean might have laughed at his fright if it hadn't brought him so much misery.

As his eyes grew accustomed to the dark, Dean was finally able to see the nervousness in his brother's face. _Well, screw you, Sammy_. His face became a blank mask of indifference, and he turned his back to Sam, taking a few steps towards the living room before pausing as that familiar voice reached his ears again.

"Dean…" a stutter, a swallow, "We need to talk."

And he _would_ have laughed this time, but instead chuckled bitterly before walking into the living room. "I'm sure we do." He turned his face back slightly as he said, "Afraid our little chick-flick reencounter will have to wait, Sam." He wouldn't call him Sammy. He _wouldn't_. "Cas and Gabe need to ask you a few questions first."

Sam's heavy, long steps followed after him. Dean knew he was confused. Sam always walked faster when he was confused, "Gabe? As in _Gabriel_? He's alive?"

"Alive and kickin'." He responded, lowering his voice as they walked in front of the sleeping angel. He stopped, turning to Sam slightly, "Do me a favor, will ya?" his brother frowned, "Keep it down." It took Sam a moment to notice the sleeping girl on the couch, and as he looked at Dean, he seemed to make all the wrong assumptions. As expected. Dean huffed quietly. Well, _he_ wouldn't be the one to explain himself.

Not tonight.

Turning his back to Sam again, he walked into the kitchen, where the angels had apparently been so focused on their conversation that they actually seemed surprised to see them enter. Castiel's eyes widened slightly as he saw Sam step into the room behind Dean. Then a small frown furrowed his brow, which was almost immediately mirrored by Dean.

"What is it, Cas?"

The angel didn't have time to answer as Gabriel wrinkled his nose and looked at the youngest Winchester up and down, his lip curled up in disgust. "You _stink_ of demon."

Dean's eyes widened at that, and he felt the pang of betrayal threatening to pierce through his heart again as he turned around to face Sam, the question obvious in his eyes. "Sam?"

The man in question wriggled slightly under the stares, and actually had the decency of at least looking down. "I've been uh…hunting," he cleared his throat, "For about a year or so."

Well that just proved what Dean had suspected from the beginning. Sam _had_ been brought back practically right after their battle against Lucifer and Michael had gone down. But Dean chose to discuss that later with him. First things first. Was Sammy still a demon blood junky?

Gabriel chortled, a coldly amused sound that brought Dean back from his thoughts, "Do all your hunts involve having a demon around for at least 5 days a week?" he grinned, "What's the matter, Sammy? Got bored of all the sparkling vampires and fluffy werewolves? Now you're full-on _**demon**_ hunter?" the mockery in the archangel's voice was more than obvious, and Sam actually _glared_ at Gabriel from the other side of the room.

"That's not it." Something sounded off in Sam's voice, Dean eyed him carefully, taking a step back towards the angels. And away from his brother. Apparently, Sam noticed too, because he suddenly took a step towards Dean, giving him the kicked puppy face that he'd learned to recognize as _Dean, trust me_.

"Dean," his hands moved as his frustration rose, a gesture Dean had seen many times in their last year of fighting the Apocalypse. Sam swallowed thickly, his eyes suspiciously bright with what Dean knew were the tears that always misted his brother's eyes when he didn't believe him, "_Please_." Dean tilted his head slightly, a sign of doubt as well of attention, and Sam looked away again briefly, "It's nothing like with Ruby. I swear." Dean's expression didn't change, his eyes still searching his brother's face, "You have to trust me." And there it was. The famous _trust me_ technique. Dean allowed a frown to form at his brow.

His eyes closed briefly as he took a breath before looking at the taller man in the eye. "Why do you smell like demon, Sam?"

Sam looked down, taking a breath before meeting his older brother's eyes. "I've been getting some…help." His eyes begged for Dean to believe him, "On my hunts."

Dean's memories of Sam following Ruby around like an addict waiting for his fix slammed back into his mind. He closed his eyes, looking down, his fists clenching tightly at his sides. Thankfully, Gabriel stayed quiet this time. Dean's voice shook slightly as he found the ability to speak, "Right." His shoulders shook with a bitter chuckle, "So you're hanging out with demons again, huh? That workin' out well for you so far, Sammy?" he could feel Sam tense at the dark use of his nickname. Dean nodded numbly, dragging a hand down his face as he finally looked up at his little brother, green eyes hard and yet shinning with the pain of the past, "So what's the name this time? Another stripper name? Maybe Jasmine or…Chastity?"

Castiel's eyes widened slightly at the mention of the name, and Dean glanced back briefly to share a look with the angel. He needed Cas's support in this. He couldn't deal with another Ruby. Turning back to Sam, who had barely noticed the exchange, he raised his eyebrows, "Hell, maybe it's just Ruby II, huh?" Dean's eyes narrowed, his voice a mere whisper, an attempt to prevent it from breaking in front of his brother, "So, which is it, Sam?"

"None." Sam's voice was firm, his anger at being blamed for what happened with Ruby once again rising while Dean's confidence in himself shattered by the second. Castiel gave a step towards Dean, and the hunter breathed as the angel's comforting presence touched his soul, "It's Crowley, Dean."

Now that…was not what he had expected. Dean frowned in confusion, "_What?_"

And Gabriel chose that moment to interrupt, "Wow, didn't know you swung that way, Sammy." He grinned, "Well," he corrected, "Knew you'd always had it for the girl in the red dress and the horns…but I wouldn't have put you as the red _suit_ loving kind." Another paused. "No, scratch that." He stared at Sam's hair, "The hair really says it all."

"_Gabriel_." Castiel gave the archangel a severe look, and the short man raised his hands as a sign of peace and shrugged.

"What? It was getting too tense here," he grinned, and Cas actually _rolled his eyes_ at that. Gabriel's grin widened triumphantly, but he didn't talk again.

Dean was paralyzed in front of the angels, lost in thought. Castiel sighed sadly and looked at Sam, "Why is Crowley helping you, Sam?" the slight tilt of the head instilled a familiar feeling in Sam's chest, and he seemed to relax slightly as he met Castiel's blue eyes.

"I'm not normal, Cas." A small frown marred the angel's face, and his head tilted further, "When you brought me back…" he glanced at Dean briefly, "I had powers. As in…the powers I had when I drank demon blood." Dean tensed, Sam noticed, "I haven't drunk any." He assured them, raising his hands as if to emphasize his honesty, "I swear." He ran a hand through his hair, "But I guess all the blood that I drank before facing Lucifer was…" he cleared his throat, "enough to actually become part of my system or something." Dean's eyes widened, "So now I'm basically half demon." Sam's eyes looked away from his brothers, "Or that's what Crowley's theory is, at least."

With the sound of flapping wings, Gabriel was suddenly in front of Sam, and the hunter barely had any time to react before the archangel swiftly grabbed his hand, his face dangerously serious. Sam stared at the shorter man in wide-eyed confusion while Castiel put a hand to Dean's shoulder as he took a step forward, a silent promise that Sam was not in danger.

A moment later, Gabriel stepped back from him, and the brothers let out a breath of relief. The former Trickster had yet to crack another joke however, and that made Dean nervous. A serious Gabriel was never good news.

"Cas."

The angel was by the archangel in the blink of an eye. Gabriel's dark golden eyes met Castiel's blue ones, and the younger angel frowned slightly in what Dean by then recognized as_ the_ _frown of worry_. Cas turned to Sam, and went to take the hunter's hand, meeting his eyes to silently ask for permission. Sam nodded shakily, still confused and feeling fear tug at his heart as the angel took his hand in both of his with a distant look in his eyes. Much like he'd done the first time they'd met.

"Cas?" Dean's voice echoed in the silent room, "What is it?"

Castiel let Sam's hand go, a small frown on his brow as he turned to face Dean.

"It seems like Crowley was right." He confirmed, meeting the hunter's wide gaze, "Sam's blood is as much human as it is demonic."

"But it's not…" he swallowed; "It's not hurting him, is it?" desperate green eyes searched into Castiel's honest blue ones.

The angel shook his head, "No." he glanced at Gabriel, who still had a frown on his face a hand to his mouth as he stared at nothing, deep in thought. Blue eyes met green once again; "It's a part of him, now. It's harmless to his body."

Dean let out a breath of relief, his shoulders sagging as he gave the angel a brief smile. "Thanks, Cas." Castiel nodded.

"Alright," Gabriel interrupted, finally coming back from his thoughts, "So I guess that's a no to the angel cocktail diet for Gigantor." Apparently, he'd gone back to his normal attitude. But his words had still caught Sam's attention.

"Angel _what_?" His eyes moved from the archangel to the angel, finally settling on his brother. "Dean, what is he talking about? What does he mean?"

"He means there's another war coming. And your brother needs to be ready for it." The hunters jumped as another voice joined the room, and Sam turned around to face a young blond girl. She gave him a smile, waving hand in a greeting, "Hi Sam, my name's Miel." She tilted her head slightly, her smile widening at the obvious question in his eyes, "And yes, I'm an angel."

Sam gaped at her, narrowing his eyes as he struggled to say something, in the end only managing to let out a puzzled, "Hi." Brown hazel eyes turned to Dean, and Sam raised an eyebrow, the mood lighter for a brief second as his older brother shook his head in a _You-don't-wanna-know_ kind of way.

"Anyway," Gabriel interrupted, obviously not wanting to wait for the younger Winchester to keep up with the new personnel, "Why don't we get back on track so that these two girls can go back to their emotional reencounter," it wasn't really a question, and Sam glared at the archangel once more while Dean took a breath and nodded, not too eager about the _emotional reencounter_ himself.

"Deano," green eyes met with golden ones, and Dean could see none of the anger that Gabriel had shown barely a few hours ago. Hell, it almost seemed like he was trying to make it _easier_ for Dean. Like he actually _cared_. He shook his head mentally. No way. Gabriel still hated him for what he'd done to Cas. "We'll start on your angelic diet tomorrow." Gabriel waited for him to give a sign of agreement or understanding, so Dean nodded. "You're a tad too human for my cocktail just yet, so you'll get Cassie's for now." Dean could feel Sam's questioning stare on the back of his neck, and by the oddly sympathetic look in Gabriel's eyes, the angel felt it too. "You okay with that, pretty boy?" Gabriel's voice was not mocking or sarcastic, and Dean nodded again, feeling a small smile tug at his lips. Gabe wasn't that bad…when he scratched you off his black list.

"Okay, uh…" Sam looked at everyone in the room, waiting for an answer he wasn't getting, "Is anyone gonna explain anything to me, or is this conversation not for _half-demon_ people?"

"Actually, Sasquatch, _it isn't_." Gabriel snapped, a grin on his face, scorn in his eyes, "Whether you're in on this or not is up to your brother," Sam opened his mouth to protest, already turning to Dean with an offended face, but Gabriel beat him to the punch, "And before you give him a bitch face: Yeah. He has every right to withhold any kind of information from you." Sam flinched, and the former Trickster shrugged, "Sticks and stones, hotshot. What can I say, life's a bitch." and before anyone could do or say anything in reply, the archangel was gone.

Castiel sighed, giving Sam a nod, but obviously not about to start explaining anything either. He put a hand on Dean's shoulder, and the hunter could feel the angel's grace calm his soul again. If Cas had ever done that before, Dean had never noticed or given it much thought. But as he looked at the angel in the eyes, meeting his soul-searching stare with an open gaze, he only felt gratitude.

"We'll be back in a few hours," he glanced at the younger angel across the kitchen, "Miel will stay here. She'll keep Ben and Lisa safe." He read the worry in Dean's heart like an open book, "If you need us, let her know; she'll tell me." The angel's face relaxed into one of his non-smiles, and Dean took a breath of relief. Cas lowered his hand to his side and glanced at Sam again, his eyes sincere, "It's good to see you, Sam."

Sam nodded, giving a smile at the angel, "You too, Cas."

Castiel's shoulders relaxed slightly, giving Dean a last reassuring look before disappearing with the sound of feathers in the wind.

Dean stared at the spot Cas and Gabriel had occupied, fists clenched to his sides, eyes lost in thought. From the other side of the room, Miel glanced at both Winchesters and sighed, knowing it was not her place to interfere or stay there any longer. Her voice was soft, like a mother talking to a child and promising she won't be far away if he needs her.

"Dean," he turned to look at her, "I'll be upstairs with Ben and Lisa." Her face lightened as she gave him a small smile, "_Don't worry, it'll be fine._" And Dean's eyes widened slightly. Her lips had not moved; and he just knew that Miel's last words had only been for him. He nodded.

"Thanks, Mel."

Her smile widened slightly, glad that he didn't oppose her talking to him this way. With a flutter of feathers, she was gone as well.

The older Winchester took a breath, finally facing his brother, "Well," his eyes hardened slightly as he readied himself to listen to what Sam had to say. He knew he wouldn't like it. "Looks like we've got some catching up to do."


	8. Sleep

Dean blessed the burning feeling that went down his throat as he took a few long draughts of whisky. He really wasn't ready to have this conversation. Opening his eyes, he looked over at Sam, who was standing with that anguished look on his face at the other side of the kitchen.

"Alright," he started, "Let's get this over with." He didn't try to hide the dark bitterness in his voice. He just stood there, eyeing his brother with a half-hooded gaze, his face blank.

Sam actually looked in pain as he took a hesitant step forward. "Dean, I—" he paused, taking a breath, "I'm sorry." He begged, "I'm sorry I just…" he swallowed, trying to meet Dean's dark look, "I thought it would be better for you," Dean tensed, already knowing what Sam would say, "That you'd be—"

"_Happy_?" Dean interrupted, Sam looked down, "You really thought that after watching you fall, after watching you _die_…I would just drive over to Lisa's and _get over it_?" he questioned, narrowing his eyes as Sam shrunk into himself more and more with each word, "Well, you thought wrong, Sam." He gulped down the rest of the bottle, setting it on the table a bit harder than he should have, making Sam flinch.

"One year." he snarled, "_One year_. Blaming myself for not being able to save you. Hating Cas for leaving and not helping me bring you back." Sam's eyes widened, as though he hadn't thought Dean would blame the angel, "And it turns out he did. He brought you back right after I bashed him for getting his wings and going back home…" he looked down, feeling the guilt gnaw at his heart once again, and shook his head, "He brings you back, and you ask him not to tell me?" he frowned, his pain finally becoming visible as his mask started breaking, "You know he apologized to me?" Sam winced, "I've done nothing but hate him for a whole year when he's done nothing but help and _he_ apologized to_ me_."

"Dean, I—" but Dean wouldn't let him talk. No. Sam was going to know what he'd been through. What spending a year hidden had done to him and their friends.

"And, guess what?" his lip curled up in anger, sending Sam into silence, "It wasn't all laughs and sunshine for Lisa either." He growled, "I don't even know how she didn't kick me out of the house after all the times I ended up drunk in her living room." Sam looked down again, "And sure, after six months I was able to help out more, and managed not to get drunk out of my wits and actually found a job. But you know what? I _didn't _get over it. I _never_ got over it." His eyes shined with sorrow as he met Sam's gaze, "I thought you were _dead_, Sam. I spent a whole year thinking my little brother was _dead_." He sniffed, looking miserably at the empty bottle, "So don't tell me you wanted me to be happy. Cause that's just a load of crap, and you know it."

Sam met his eyes, "I _did_ want you to be happy, Dean!" with such confidence that Dean was actually inclined to believe him, "You have no idea of all the times I stood by your house and thought of just knocking on the door." That took Dean by surprise, green eyes suddenly wide as he lowered down his barrier for a moment.

"Then why didn't you?"

"Because I didn't want you to go back to hunting, Dean!" Sam responded, feeling with relief that his brother was starting to understand, "The Apocalypse practically tore you apart. I could see the look in your eyes whenever you joked about having a family. You meant it, Dean. You wanted a family, and Lisa and Ben are what you needed to be happy." He paused, his voice lower, "If I'd come to see you, you would've jumped right into hunting and…" Sam stopped, worrying his lip as though he couldn't bring himself to say something.

"What?" Dean asked, his voice still bitter, though much softer than before, "What is it, Sam?"

"I didn't want you to see me, I…" he ran a hand through his long brown locks, "I was afraid you wouldn't like what I've become." Sam's voice was so weak, so vulnerable, that Dean almost gave in to the reflex of running over and hug his little brother. Instead, he sighed. This conversation had been pushing down on their shoulders since way before the Apocalypse had even started.

"…Sam…" he was honestly at a loss. What was he supposed to say?

"Don't tell me it's alright, Dean." Sam interrupted, radiating anguish and shame,"It's not. I'm half _demon_, this is even worse than with Ruby. I can do a lot more things than I used to. I'm—"

"A whole new level of freak?" Dean finished, smiling despite himself as he thought of how long it had been since Sam had said that to him. He watched as Sam looked at him with disbelieving eyes, "We've been through this already, Sam. You're my brother, with or without the demon blood. And besides," he offered him a small grin, "This is not like last time," Sam's eyes were so wide it was almost comical, but Dean continued, "This happened as an aftereffect of your little dance with Lucifer at prom, not because you were following some demon bitch around."

Before he knew it, Sam was standing in front of him, pulling him into a tight hug. Dean came down from his surprise as he felt his brother shake, and finally wrapped his arms around Sam just as tightly. "Thank you," Sam whispered, his voice breaking slightly, and Dean felt his throat constrict at the wetness he felt on his neck, "Dean, I'm…thank you." A shaky breath left Dean's lips, whether it was a laugh or just plain relief, he didn't know.

"It's okay, Sammy." He felt Sam's arms tighten around him at the use of the nickname, and felt a fond smile form on his own lips, "We'll figure somethin' out. We always do." Finally pulling his brother slightly away, patting his shoulder as the no-chick-flick-moments rule was reestablished. Sam actually let out a small laugh, stepping away from his brother in a silent apology for losing control like that.

Feeling much lighter than he had merely minutes ago, Dean walked over to the fridge, grabbing a beer and glancing at Sam, arching an eyebrow, "Beer?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded, rubbing his face, calming himself down.

Tossing a bottle at his brother, he closed the fridge and flopped down on one of the chairs in the kitchen. Sam did the same, and they stayed like that, in a comfortable silence, until Sam saw it fit to break it.

"So," he put his beer down, "What was Gabriel talking about? And…Miel? She said something about a war…" his eyes searched Dean, "Please don't tell me there's another Apocalypse on the way."

Dean shook his head, taking a few sips before also putting the drink down, "Nah, not exactly." He leaned back, "Just the angels being dicks like usual." He sighed, "Cas says they divided themselves after Lucy and Mike fell into the pit. Some followed Cas and Gabe, guess they saw them as kind of the saviors of Earth or somethin'," he frowned, making a face at the memory of a certain archangel, "The others follow Raphael around."

"And what?" Sam frowned, "Are they looking for revenge or something? For Michael?"

"That'd be my guess, yeah." Dean snorted, "Son of a bitch is probably pissed that Daddy brought Cas back and gave him bigger wings." he scowled, bringing the beer to his lips as he mumbled angrily, "Damn brats and their temper tantrums."

"So what's the plan? And why did Gabriel say that I couldn't do it anymore?"

"Well," Dean shifted in his seat, "we were sort of waiting for you to see if you'd…" he scratched the back of his neck, not liking that he had to bring up the subject again.

"Kept up the demon blood diet." Sam finished quietly. They stayed silent for a moment. Finally, he looked up again, "So what are _you_ gonna do?"

"Join you on your little blood menu," Dean replied, downing the rest of his beer in two long gulps, "Only I'm going with angel cocktail, instead." His grin didn't quite reach his eyes, and Sam eyed him disbelievingly.

"You're going to drink _angel blood_?" Dean didn't react, eyes fixed on his empty bottle, "Dean. Are you serious? After all that came with the demon blood you're just gonna throw yourself down the same hole?"

"Look, I don't like this anymore than you do." Dean snapped, not willing to take a lecture about blood from _Sam_, "But, guess what? We're gonna be fighting angels, Sam. _Angels_. Cas's blade worked just fine against _one_, maybe two. But there's gonna be a lot more than that, and I can't have Cas, Gabe or Mel getting hurt because they need to watch after my ass every time we bump into those dicks with wings." He could see the understanding in Sam's face, even though it was clear that he still didn't like the idea.

"So you get addicted to angel blood and then what? Huh, Dean?" he asked, unable to keep his mouth shut, "What happens when the war is over and the angels _leave_ again?" he narrowed his eyes, nodding towards the stairs that led to Bobby's panic room, "Am I gonna have to lock you up?"

"No." Dean answered stiffly, feeling his anger rise again, "Gabriel says the effects of angel blood are different. As long as I don't drink more than what they give me, I shouldn't develop an addiction to it."

Sam stared at him, eyes narrowed as he eyed his brother. Dean met his glare, not faltering as they tested each other's confidence for what seemed like an hour but was really no longer than a minute.

Finally, Sam's shoulders slumped, and he leaned back against the chair in a defeated posture, "Fine." He nodded numbly, "If you're so sure about this, fine. Do it. But don't expect me to support it."

"I don't." Dean's voice was back to its previous monotone, and Sam cursed himself for bringing back the tension between them.

"…What about Ben and Lisa?" he asked after a moment.

"They'll stay here for now, until I can find another place that's safe from the angels." He sighed, allowing himself to relax slightly, "Bobby's is the safest we know so far."

Sam nodded, trying to suppress a yawn but not quite succeeding. Dean looked at him tiredly.

"Get some sleep. You look like shit." His tone did not leave room for argument, and Sam stood with a sigh, leaning against the door as he turned to him again.

"You should sleep too." He commented, his voice too tired to sound demanding.

Dean rubbed his eyes, exhaustion finally taking a toll on him, "Yeah, I'll just… stay down here 'til Cas and Gabe make it back." He stood, grabbing the bottles to throw them away. "You go upstairs."

"Okay," Sam gave in, watching his brother's back for a moment, "Good night, Dean."

Dean didn't reply, he stood facing the sink, his hands on the counter as he listened to Sam's retreating footsteps. Once he was sure his brother was upstairs, he let his shoulders relax, his voice coming out as a mere whisper, "Night, Sam."

Heaving a sigh, he finally pushed himself away from the counter, walking slowly towards the living room. Once there, he let himself fall on the sofa, not even bothering to pull up the blanket as he simply got comfortable and let sleep take him.

He was almost asleep when he heard quiet steps, and the old blanket was carefully placed on him, almost immediately filling him with warmth. Soft hands caressed his hair, lulling him to sleep. His mother used to do this every night, and he'd never felt this safe ever since she had died.

Dean managed to open his eyes slightly, his view blurred with sleep, and soon the hands were back, and he felt a light kiss on his forehead. "Shhh…" he closed his eyes, "Sleep, Dean." He gave up; letting his exhaustion take him away into his dreams, "…Sleep."

He didn't see the smile in the petite blonde's lips, nor heard her quiet steps as she walked over to the other edge of the sofa and sat by his feet, curling up like a cat as she too fell asleep.


	9. Charred Wings

"Hey, Mel!" Dean called from the kitchen, his face buried in the fridge as he looked for something other than beer to make for Ben's breakfast. Heaving a sigh, he stepped away, turning around only to be faced with clear blue eyes. "Holy—!" he slammed the fridge closed, scowling as Miel broke out in a fit of giggles. "_Don't do that_." He warned, pointing a threatening finger at her.

She stuck out her tongue, obviously not intimidated in the least, "Cas mentioned your reaction to this kind of thing was always pretty amusing." She informed him with a grin, stepping away to sit on a chair.

"I knew it! I knew the bastard did it on purpose!" as much as he tried not to, Dean couldn't help the small grin that tugged on his lips. Looking around, he raised an eyebrow, "Speaking of our little nerd with wings, where is he?"

Miel sighed, "He and Gabriel haven't come back yet," she pouted, obviously not happy to be missing out on the fun, "Guess the scouting mission is taking longer than they expected." Dean chuckled.

"So you're stuck with us boring humans, huh?" dragging a chair back, he sat in front of her.

"Oh, humans are not boring." She assured, placing an elbow on the table and leaning her cheek on her hand, "I just wish they let me fly around a bit more. I want to see the oceans, the mountains, the forests, the deserts…" she sighed.

Dean arched his eyebrows, "So angels like sight seeing…" he nodded, face in mock thought, "Never would have guessed."

She sent a playful glare in his direction, "Well, I haven't been down here in a couple thousand years," she shrugged, "Seeing it from upstairs gets kind of boring after the first few centuries."

"I'd bet." He said in agreement, chuckling at her use of time. "Hell, I live down here, and I've never actually left the States." The bright smile on her face reminded him of a child on Christmas morning.

"Maybe you could come with me, when this is all over."

He laughed, "Sorry, Shorty." She scowled slightly at the nickname, "But I'm not too fond of Angel Airlines. Just ask your brother."

Mel deflated slightly, "Fine…" Dean thought of saying something, to make it up to her, but Ben interrupted any words that might have come out of his mouth as he walked into the kitchen, looking more awake than he should have been at that time of the day.

"Morning!" he chirped, sitting down next to Dean, looking up at him expectantly. "What's for breakfast?"

"I'm working on that." He said while ruffling the boy's hair, "Where's your mother?"

"Still asleep," he shrugged, "She sleeps in on Saturdays, remember?"

"It's Saturday?" he frowned, looking at Miel for confirmation. The angel nodded with amusement, "Huh. Forgot how much this place makes me lose track of time."

He stood up, walking over to the living room, followed closely by Ben and Mel. "Alright, guess I'll have to drive over to get us some decent breakfast." He took his jacket and was about to grab his keys when they suddenly flew towards Miel's open hand. He rolled his eyes, "That's very funny, Mel. Really. Hilarious. Now, give me the keys."

She shook her head, dangling the keys around her finger as she smiled at him. "Tell me what you want for breakfast, and I'll go get it." She shrugged, "It'll be much faster."

Dean eyed her carefully. "Didn't Cas tell you to stay here and look after Ben?"

Mel's grin widened, "It'll be just a second, I promise." She nodded to the wall, "Besides, Cas and I sealed this whole house against demons and angels."

His eyes narrowed, "You're just dying to get out of the house, aren't you?"

She gave him a puppy eyed look, blue eyes shinning as she tilted her head slightly, "Please?"

The hunter rolled his eyes, letting out a quiet chuckle as he shook his head. Looking back at her, he sighed. "Alright, fine."

Ben, who'd been listening from behind the angel, decided it was a good moment to make himself known by jumping on the girl's back. Dean raised his eyebrows, Miel had sort of a petite body, but then again, she _was _an angel…holding up an eleven year old shouldn't have been too hard for her, if at all. "Can I come with you?" he asked, leaning his head over her shoulder to look at her face.

Mel laughed, the melodic sound suddenly bringing warmth to Dean's soul. He was still tense and mad at Sam from their discussion the night before. But if living with Ben and Lisa had taught him anything, it was to hide any emotions regarding his brother from the rest. So, when Mel's laughter made Dean's shoulders relax slightly, he found himself looking at the angel in slight wonder. Gabriel had mentioned that she was the angel of hope and joy, but it didn't seem like she'd noticed anything. He was so lost in his train of thought that he barely registered Ben's voice as the boy asked him a question.

"Hmm? Sorry, what?" he asked, forcing himself to pay attention to the situation at hand.

The boy didn't seem to mind this, for he asked the question just as excitedly, "Can I go with Mel to get breakfast? That way, she'll know what to get. And we can get something for you and mom."

Dean eyed them with narrowed eyes, giving the appearance of thinking through his offer. Ben's brown eyes widened as he gave him his infamous puppy eyed look. The fact that Mel was also looking at him expectantly did nothing to help his case. Finally, he sighed, smiling despite himself as Ben cheered and Mel giggled. "Alright, kiddo. But don't leave Mel's side, ya hear?"

"Yes, sir!" The boy chirped.

Stretching out his hand, he raised an eyebrow, "Can I have my keys now?" the angel tossed them to him with a smile, and he met her eyes, his silent question reaching only Miel's ears.

"_I'll take care of him. It'll only be a minute."_ He nodded, waving at the boy as he practically beamed at the prospect of _flying_.

They were gone with the echo of fluttering wings, and Dean briefly wondered if Ben would feel sick after his first trip with an angel. He snorted, that wasn't likely…and if it did happen, it would serve to teach him a lesson for next time he tried to go anywhere with Mel.

"Dean?" He turned around to the sound of Lisa's voice. All the cheering must have woken her up, her eyes were still clouded with sleep as she rubbed her face and tried to get her dark hair back into place.

"Mornin'," he greeted with a smile, "Ben just left to get breakfast with Mel."

"Mel?" she frowned slightly, her eyes widening slightly after the memories from the night before seemed to sink in. She looked around the old living room, as though she'd only just noticed this wasn't her house. "Whose house is this?"

"Bobby Singer's," he replied easily, taking her hand and pulling her with him to sit on the sofa, "You've talked to him a couple times on the phone. Grumpy old man."

"I heard that." Said grumpy old man's voice startled her as Bobby walked into the living room, trucker hat already firmly in place. Dean gave the old hunter a cheeky grin, making it clear that he'd known perfectly well that Bobby would hear what he said. Bobby rolled his eyes, walking over to the kitchen, "Idjit."

Lisa watched him go, eyes still wide as she took on everything that had happened in less than 24 hours. Finally awake enough to put her thoughts together, she turned to Dean, "Wait, so Ben and Miel went out? Isn't that dangerous?"

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, giving her a reassuring smile, "She's an angel, Lisa. Ben's as safe as he'll ever be with her." He glanced down at his watch, "Besides, they should be here any minute."

As if on queue, Ben and Mel materialized in the middle of the room in a flutter of wings, the relative silence of the house being broken by the boy's cheerful laughter. Lisa jumped, her eyes wide once again as she looked at Dean, making sure she wasn't seeing things, and that Miel and her son had really just appeared out of nowhere in front of her.

Dean eyed her expression with amusement before turning to the boy and the angel, "Well that was quick." He grinned, "What'd you guys get?"

Miel gave him a sweet smile, "Ben chose everything." Blue eyes turned to the still stunned woman by his side, and the angel greeted her with another of her smiles, "Good morning, Lisa. I hope you slept okay." Lisa managed to nod with a shaky smile, and Mel's smile widened slightly before she gently took the bags from Ben's hands and walked over to the kitchen while the boy ran to flop down in between the hunter and his mother.

"We got pancakes!" he informed them happily, "And coffee for you and Dean," brown eyes moved from Dean to Lisa, a wide smile still painted on the boy's lips. "We also got bacon and eggs for you, Dean!" he finally settled on the hunter, who ruffled his hair playfully, "And Mel also got something else for Sam and Bobby." Dean tensed slightly at the mention of his brother, but managed to hide it as he forced a smile. Looking over to the kitchen, he saw Mel giving him an apologetic look from the door. He nodded, assuring her it was okay. It was actually pretty nice of her to think of Sam and Bobby. He'd sort of forgotten about them himself.

"Looks like you brought food for a whole army," Lisa smiled, glancing at Dean briefly, and the hunter knew she'd noticed the change in his stance. "Let's go eat before it gets cold then!" she pushed herself up, motioning for Ben to follow her into the kitchen. The boy sent a brief confused look in Dean's direction, but the hunter managed a more convincing smile, which seemed enough to put Ben at ease. Damn kid was too perceptive; he chuckled as he shook his head slightly. He'd have to be more careful now that Sam was around again.

Sitting back for a moment, he took deep measured breaths to calm himself down, his eyes closed. The sound of soft steps from the kitchen and someone sitting carefully at his side made him look to his side. Blue eyes were staring at him with something that Dean could only describe as motherly concern. "Sorry," she said, offering him a steaming cup of coffee, "I shouldn't have mentioned Sam to him. Should've just said it was for Bobby."

He raised an eyebrow, trying to show her he was really all right with it without having to actually say it. "Can angels even lie?"

Mel snorted, "Please. You've met Gabriel," and that was really more than enough to make his point invalid, "And don't forget Zachariah." She leaned back with a sigh, a surprisingly human gesture for someone who hadn't been on Earth for thousands of years, "They might not have done it in the old times, but angels certainly do lie now. A lot." This seemed to sadden her, and Dean somehow felt her sadness creep into his own soul.

"Well, Cas sort of sucks at it." He mumbled, trying to cheer her up.

She laughed, and Dean was glad when the coldness inside of him disappeared. That was kind of weird. He'd have to ask Cas or Gabe about it later. "Yeah, Castiel's never really been good at deceiving anyone." She agreed fondly. Blue eyes met green, and Miel arched an eyebrow, amusement quite obvious in her voice, "Your breakfast is getting cold, by the way."

That seemed to put Dean's stomach to work, and he quickly jumped to his feet, Miel's laughter following after him as he skipped into the kitchen to battle Ben for his bacon and eggs.

* * *

Sam woke to the sound of laughter. Rubbing his eyes, he frowned, idly wondering if maybe he was just dreaming of happier times. Shaking his head, he stood up and stretched with a groan. He'd been sleeping in his car a lot lately, and had almost forgotten just how much a bed could do to actually make you rest.

Grabbing a change of clothes from his old duffel bag, he walked into the bathroom to take a welcomed hot shower.

Ten minutes later he was making his way down the stairs when the sound of laughter greeted him again. He couldn't help the smile that tugged on his lips as he made his way through the living room and into the kitchen.

Ben was laughing hysterically as Dean tickled him in his attempt to steal a piece of his pancakes. Lisa and Miel were talking animatedly; often sending warm looks in the boys' direction. Bobby was sitting next to them, face hidden behind a newspaper while taking sips of his coffee from time to time.

"Morning," he greeted, smiling despite himself, as the argument between him and Dean had yet to be forgotten.

"Good morning, Sam." Miel responded with a warm smile, and Sam found himself liking the angel already.

Lisa's eyes widened slightly as she looked at him, and Sam could only guess Dean had told her he'd sort of died around a year ago. He stood with a sheepish smile as the woman jumped up and walked over to hug him. "Oh my God, Sam!" she said with a laugh, "It's good to see you, it's been so long!" The young Winchester glanced down at her, returning her hug hesitantly while glancing nervously at Dean, only to find his brother smiling.

"It's good to see you too, Lisa." He replied, finally allowing himself to smile fully.

"Hi, Sam!" Ben waved from the other side of the table, maple syrup all over his round face.

"Hey, Ben." He chuckled, taking a seat next to the girls as Bobby folded his newspaper and pushed a cup of coffee and a plate in his direction. "Well, it's about time, princess. Hope you're done with your beauty sleep now, cause you ain't gonna be sleepin' like that every day."

"Wow, good morning to you too, Bobby." He grinned, taking a sip of his coffee.

The morning went by well enough, Ben's laughter making it easier for him and Dean to hide the tension still remaining between them as they all finished breakfast without a rush.

Once they were done, Lisa offered to clean up, and Miel decided to stay and help her (although she seemed to be mainly curious, because Sam was willing to bet she hadn't washed a dish in her life). Bobby and Sam sat quietly while Dean explained Ben the many things they'd battled together. The boy listened carefully, his eyes shinning with excitement.

Sam should have known it couldn't have lasted for long.

The echo of flapping wings announced the arrival of the two missing angels, and they all looked up to see Gabriel and Castiel, standing slightly disheveled in the middle of the room. Miel ran to them from the kitchen, eyes searching frantically for injuries before she let herself breathe with relief. "What took you guys so long?"

"Sorry, Melly," Gabe's usual grin was a sure sign that everything was pretty much okay, "Bumped into one of Raph's group of fans," he snorted, "I swear, the crap they spout about us _Rebellious heathens _just keeps gettin' better each day."

"They seemed very convinced of our _evil ways_," Cas agreed, his tone not nearly as amused as Gabriel's, "Raphael must be filling their minds with wrong information."

Dean's lip curled up in disgust, and Sam watched as his brother studied the angels almost like Miel had, "Sounds like him." he stood, walking over to Castiel's side, "So, what's next?"

Before Castiel could answer, Lisa made herself known with a polite cough as she went over to them slowly from the kitchen, "Excuse me, I don't mean to interrupt," Her eyes watched Dean for a moment before turning to the strangers, "But, who are you?"

Gabriel burst out laughing, making Lisa smile self-consciously while Dean sent him a glare, "Wow, Deano, I'm offended. So you really don't talk about me at all, huh?"

Castiel sent his brother a look that could only be described as annoyed before turning his blue eyes to Lisa. "Excuse him," he apologized, "My name is Castiel, and this is my brother, Gabriel."

Lisa's eyes widened at the names, and Sam mused with a small smile that the woman was most likely struggling with dealing with all the surprises. "You're Castiel?" she walked over to the trench coated man, "You're the angel that saved Dean from…" she hesitated.

"Hell?" Gabriel interrupted, sending his little brother a look that almost appeared to be proud, "Yep. That's him." Putting an arm around Castiel's neck, he pulled him down and closer to him, making the taller angel let out a surprised grunt, "Dear Deano was saved by my socially awkward lil' bro. Isn't that right, Cassie?"

Castiel rolled his eyes, pulling away to get rid of Gabriel's grip on his neck. Ben giggled from his perch on a chair. And that was all it took for the archangel to take notice of the boy with a wide grin.

But, apparently, Dean had had enough of the former Trickster's antics, and stepped in front of Ben, annoyance in his features. "I know you're dying to corrupt the kid with candy, Gabe. But can you do that _after_ you tell us what's going on?"

Gabriel sighed, "Aw, alright, alright." A mumble that sounded suspiciously like _party pooper_ made Dean roll his eyes.

"Just get on with it."

"Jeez, Winchester, so demanding." Dark golden eyes met Sam's for a moment, and the young hunter could have sworn he saw a spark of interest and curiosity in them. Well, that couldn't be good. "I think we should start you on the angel diet today." Another glance in his direction, and Sam knew what Gabriel was actually looking for. A reaction.

Okay. So Sam could now say he officially hated the guy's guts.

He felt Dean's eyes on him as he tried to keep the anger under control. This was just messed up. He couldn't agree to have his brother become dependent on something like angel blood. Especially when there was no guarantee that the angels would help him once their problem with Raphael was solved.

Sam barely heard Dean asking Lisa to please leave the room. He heard her and Ben's muffled voices, and felt the air moving beside him as they walked past him to get out of the living room. Forcing himself to focus on the situation at hand, he caught on to the conversation as Dean started talking again.

"So, how's this gonna work? You gonna give me a bottle or something to drink from or what?"

Gabriel shook his head, actually looking slightly apologetic as he glanced at Castiel and then back at Dean. "Actually, angel blood is a bit different from demon blood in another way too." He started, "Putting it in a container makes it practically useless. It has to come directly from the angel's vessel, and he or she needs to be alive."

There was a long, uncomfortable silence, the tension building rapidly as Dean's frown deepened. "Wait. You want me to suck Cas's blood? What am I, a friggin' sparkling vampire now?"

Cas himself looked just as uncomfortable as Dean did, and Sam couldn't find it in him to blame the guy. It didn't seem like he was happy about the whole deal either, so that left Gabriel for him to be pissed at…not such a bad thing either. He didn't want to be mad at Cas. And he was pretty sure he couldn't be mad at Miel even if he wanted to.

"Yeah, I know, I know. It's not exactly the most appetizing thing," Gabriel apologized (sort of), "But I wouldn't make you do it if there was any other way. I mean, come on. Would I lie to you?"

The silence that followed the question, along with the stares from everyone in the room, was enough to answer that question. Hell, not even Gabriel could deny that. "Alright, don't answer that." He pointed at Cas, "But you can trust Cassie! He wouldn't lie. I mean, hell, he _can't_ lie." Gabe snorted, obviously finding his joke hilarious.

Castiel glared at him, taking a breath before giving Dean a _truly_ apologetic look. "He's right, Dean. Angel blood is only effective when it comes directly from the vessel being used." The angel shook his head, heaving a sigh, "I'm sorry."

Sam watched Dean struggle with the issue. It wasn't Cas's fault. Even Dean could see that. But that didn't mean he had to agree with it. There was no way he'd let Dean get hooked on angel blood. His brother had to know this was a bad idea.

"Fine. Fine, alright, let's get this over with." Sam's eyes widened, his mouth falling agape as he stared at his brother disbelievingly.

"_What?_ Dean, you're kidding me, right? So you're really going through with this?" he glanced at Bobby for support, but the old hunter didn't quite meet his gaze, and Sam turned his eyes back to his brother.

"Sam, we've talked about this." The warning in Dean's voice was clear.

"No, Dean. I know you think it's the only way, but come on. _Angel blood_? There has to be another way."

"Well, there _isn't_, Sam." Sam knew he should stop, Dean and him were already in bad terms as it was, he didn't need to make it worse. Dean's eyes were already dark with anger, and it was clear that he was trying to control himself. But Sam just couldn't help himself.

"And who says that? _Gabriel_? Come on, Dean! He was the _Trickster_, for God's sake!; practically everything that comes out of his mouth is bull. How can you even trust him?"

"I don't! Alright?" Dean's anger was more than obvious now, and not even Gabriel risked defending himself. "But Cas says he's telling the truth, and I trust him!" Dean's eyes glared into Sam with such raw disappointment and hurt that the younger Winchester actually stayed quiet. His brother gave a step toward him, still keeping closer to the angels, "And you know what? I don't think you're one to talk about _trust_, Sam. So you better stay out of it. Because this is none of your fucking business!"

"What? Dean, I—"

"_Sam_." Dean closed his eyes, taking a breath. He was about to lose it, and Sam knew better than to push this further.

He nodded numbly; shoulders slumped in defeat as he sent one last glare at Gabriel before walking out of the room, followed closely by Bobby.

* * *

Dean watched his brother go, already feeling guilty for what he'd said but knowing that it was the only way to keep Sam in line.

"Alright, Gabe. I hope you're really telling the truth, because if it turns out you're not," his eyes were not joking when he looked at the former Trickster, "I'm gonna dunk you in Holy oil and burn your wings to ashes."

Gabriel nodded, keeping his tongue in check, not wanting to upset the hunter any more than he already was.

Dean eyed him for a moment, as though waiting for a smart remark, before turning to the other two. "Okay, Cas, let's get this over with. You two leave. The fact that I'm doing this doesn't mean I want an audience."

The archangel smirked, but before any comment that would surely earn him a few glares could leave his mouth, Miel grabbed his arm, and they disappeared in a flutter of wings. Dean could barely hear her tell the others not to get in the room.

Taking a breath, he turned to face Castiel, who looked just as uncomfortable as he felt. Breaking eye contact first for a change, Cas nodded at the sofa. "We should sit."

"Why?" Dean complained, "Can't we just do it standing? It should only take a few seconds, right?" He was well aware of how wrong this whole conversation sounded.

"Your first dose is going to be double the one you will take for the first couple of weeks." Cas informed him, "Even if I have full power over my grace, you'll still be absorbing a relatively big amount of energy. It'll weaken me for a few moments." Once again, Dean was put before Castiel's will to sacrifice himself for their sakes. Unlike all the other times, however, Dean acknowledged it and decided not to make this any more difficult.

"Fine. Don't faint on me though." He warned, his eyes showing the angel his worry while his words barely registered concern. "Don't want to have to deal with your ass if you pass out." He mumbled as he flopped down on the sofa.

Castiel sat down next to him, immediately taking an angel sword from inside his trench coat and pulling up his sleeve. And Dean actually let out a breath of relief when he realized he wouldn't have to suck Cas's neck or something…because that would've just been friggin' awkward. He winced slightly as Cas sliced a deep cut into his arm, frowning slightly when the angel closed his eyes as the wound shined slightly. This wasn't a normal weapon; this was an angel-killing sword. Dean could only guess it was actually painful for angels to even get a small cut with these things.

His thoughts were interrupted as Castiel offered his bleeding wrist to him, and Dean reluctantly took it in his hands. Green eyes met blue for a brief look of reassurance, but it was only after Cas nodded that Dean actually leaned down to bring his mouth to the wound. He winced as he tasted the coppery substance…it was…

…A lot better than he'd been expecting.

Dean had tasted blood before. And whether it had been his own or the one of the souls he'd tortured in Hell, he'd never actually liked the taste. It was just wrong. But angel blood must have something to it, because while he could taste metal, it wasn't repelling at all. He actually found it tasted pretty good. Addicting.

The hunter resisted against the hand pushing against his shoulder, pushing him away from the coppery life source. He was barely aware of an almost animalistic growl rumbling in his chest, and the echo of his name piercing through to his mind. Finally, a stronger force pushed him completely away from the bleeding wound, to the point of almost throwing him off the sofa.

And he snapped out of it.

Putting a hand to his lips, Dean looked at the blood dirtying his fingers with horrified fascination. The sound of shallow breathing bringing him out of his trance as he looked up to the angel sitting next to him.

Castiel had moved away from him, to the other end of the sofa, and was leaning back, his face pale. His chest rose and fell with the rhythm of his erratic breathing.

This was wrong.

Was Cas supposed to be feeling so weak?

He couldn't have drank that much, could he?

Voice faltering, Dean motioned to move towards the angel, "Cas?" Something tightened in his chest when Castiel flinched slightly. "You okay? Did I—" he swallowed, "Did I take too much?"

The angel shook his head, still working on getting his breathing back to normal as he tried to reassure his charge. "No, you—" he cleared his throat, trying to erase the sudden exhaustion in it, "This is my first time doing this too." Calm blue eyes turned to meet frightened hazel green, "I'm not used to having my energy leave me like this. But it should become easier eventually." Cas straightened up, bringing two fingers to the wound. Dean watched with curiosity as the wound closed, but the scar remained.

Cas must have noticed him staring, because he was suddenly looking back at him with his usual head tilt. "Dean?"

"Your arm." Dean pointed out, his voice back to its usual low confidence tinted with a touch of concern, "The wound scarred. Is that normal? Shouldn't it disappear like it was never there or something?" While he tried to keep his tone nonchalant, Dean knew Castiel could see right through him.

Cas gave him one of his non-smiles, eyes softening slightly, "Injuries made with these swords not only affect the vessel, Dean, but the angel as well. The fact that the scar remains visible means the wound has not been healed completely. My grace is still…bleeding, as it were."

Dean frowned, eyes dark as he eyed the pale scar on Castiel's arm. So entranced was he in his own thoughts that he barely felt Cas's hand on his shoulder. As the contact broke through his thoughts, he looked up into the angel's eyes. "Dean. It'll heal."

The hunter nodded, forcing a brief smile before standing up. Bringing his hands to his mouth, he wiped the drying blood from his lips and heaved a sigh.

"Alright. So, when am I supposed to be getting my superpowers?" he asked, trying to lighten the mood but not quite succeeding.

Castiel frowned slightly at his _odd_ choice of words, but didn't ask, "You should start noticing changes in the way you perceive things. Your vision, your hearing and reflexes will be much more acute."

Dean snorted, "Awesome. So I should be able to see you guys without going blind, right?" Castiel nodded, and Dean glanced around the room, trying to see if anything had changed. "Well, I gotta tell ya. I'm not so sure if your juice is workin' right, Cas." He chuckled, "Because I see exactly the—" his words left him as he looked back at Cas, eyes widening when he distinguished the blue aura surrounding the angel. "What the—" he closed his eyes, taking a step back as he rubbed them furiously. When he opened them again, the light was only clearer than before, and he could now distinguish a pair of huge dark shadows growing from Castiel's back.

His wings.

"Cas, are those—" he swallowed, feeling his mouth go dry, "Are those your wings?"

Castiel arched his eyebrows slightly in surprise. "You can see them?" The hunter nodded. "I didn't think you'd be able to see them this soon." He frowned slightly, "Although I guess it makes sense…"

Dean forced himself to look away from the wings – which were becoming more visible by the minute – and glanced at Cas with a frown of his own. "Well, would you mind enlightening me as well? I'm kind of freaking out here."

"You're Michael's vessel. Your tolerance for angel blood should be higher than a normal human being. Even higher than a common vessel."

The hunter felt his knees go weak and staggered back to hold on to a chair. "Great," his voice shook slightly, "So I'm already in for more than I bargained for. Awesome."

"I'm sorry." Cas looked down, and Dean kept quiet. He knew Cas was sorry, and he knew it wasn't his fault. But it would take some time for him to be okay with this whole angel blood thing, and to top it all, his destiny as Michael's angel condom had found a way to mess with his life even after the apocalypse. It was a lot to take on.

They sat in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. After a few moments, Dean found his eyes wandering back to the angel's wings. He could see them clearly now. Cas's wings were of tones of grey and black, like a hawk's. Forgetting the messed up situation he was in, he watched with curious fascination as the wings moved and the feathers fluttered, showing the angel's emotions better than his facial expression ever did. Dean almost smiled as Cas's wings moved back slightly, like he was upset at something, which allowed him to see a bit more of the gray wings…

Enough to see the charred and burned feathers at the edges and the tip.

"Cas." The angel looked up to him immediately, tilting his head in question. "Your wings…" Dean pointed at them halfheartedly, "How did you…" he hesitated, not knowing if he was even supposed to be noticing this, "How did they get burned?"

Castiel looked down again, his wings fluttering uncomfortably behind him, "Hell." He answered quietly, "Getting Sam and Adam out of the cage was harder than I'd anticipated." Dean winced, the guilt of all the blame and hatred he'd laid on his friend making his chest constrict in shame. He wanted to ask more…but by the way Castiel's wings were folded tensely just over his shoulders, the angel didn't want to talk about it. And Dean could respect that. So he moved the conversation elsewhere.

"You saved Adam too?" Cas nodded, "Do you know were he is?"

Castiel sighed, his wings relaxing slightly at the change of subject, "I rescued both Adam's and Sam's souls from the cage. But Adam told me he had nothing and no one else to live for, and begged me to send him to Heaven with his mother." He explained, sympathy and understanding clear in his gruff voice, "Sam didn't ask for Heaven, so I reconstructed his body and…" he looked away, not wanting to finish, knowing it would only bring back the pain of Dean's fight with Sam.

"Good," Dean answered, nodding to himself, "That's…that's great. He deserved to be happy." He looked down at the floor for a few minutes before looking up. "Cas?"

The angel met his eyes, feathers ruffling slightly, as though waiting to be bashed for something. Dean's eyes saddened, but they shone true as he looked at his friend in the eye.

"Thank you."

Cas's eyes widened slightly, wings relaxing and stretching out slowly before flexing back. The angel smiled.

"You're welcome."


	10. Feather by Feather

_AN: Sorry it's taken so long! I've had a bit of writer's block with this chapter, but I'm pretty sure I have it all figured out now (more or less). Thank you so much for all of your reviews! They really help me when writing and give me a lot of inspiration. Hope you'll keep liking the story :)  
_

_**Disclaimer: **(Yes, I'd forgotten to mention it in the other chapters. Sorry) Supernatural and all its characters are property of Eric Kripke._

_

* * *

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Dean was on his way to the stairs, planning on giving Lisa and Ben a fair explanation of what was going on while Castiel talked to Gabriel and Mel. He wasn't especially happy about having to do it, but he knew that in cases like this, it was better to be informed. Ignorance had more than once proved to be a lethal mistake in Dean's experience, and he wasn't going to go off to battle angels before making sure his family was ready.

However, as he made it to the bottom of the stairs, he was met with his brother, who was leaning casually against the wall. Or would appear to look casual had Dean not known him long enough to recognize the tension in his "brooding and pensive" shoulders (as Chuck had very accurately described them once).

While he was perfectly aware that Sam wanted to have a talk, he didn't acknowledge him as he went for the first step.

"Dean." He paused, waiting, giving his brother the chance to fix things, albeit begrudgingly. "Did you drink it?"

Shoulder's shaking with a short chuckle, he looked up before turning to face his little brother. Should've known Sam was not going to let this go. His eyes were cold as he responded snarkily, "No, Sam. Me and Cas just had a nice little chat about the good old times and the wonderful world we live in. What do you think?"

Sam glared at his dark sarcasm, but Dean didn't back down. "So what, you're the new addict of the family? It's not enough that my addiction to blood made me half demon, now you're just on your way of becoming half angel?"

"It's not the same." He snarled, cold green eyes meeting his brother's disapproving stare.

Dean could see Sam losing his patience, but if his brother thought he'd be able to win this one, he was in for a rough ride. The older Winchester could see this was not going to end well, and that unless one of them backed down, things were going to get dirty, and one of them was going to end up hurt. Not physically – he hoped –, but an emotional beating was sure as hell coming their way fast. And, as much as he hated to do it, and as often as he'd allowed Sam to dump his shit on him before, Dean would not play human punch bag.

Not this time.

"How is it not the same, Dean?" Sam demanded, his face breaking in a disbelieving yet humorless smile, followed by a frustrated laugh that only made Dean's expression darken. "You're drinking blood, Dean. _Blood_. And you might think there's a good reason for it, and that it's under control. But it's not, because that's what I thought too, and look where that got me!" Dean glared at him, trying his hardest not to say something he knew would only widen the gap between his brother and him. "This is just the angel version of the whole Ruby thing!"

And with that, Dean snapped. Because Sam could yell at and disapprove of him until he was blue in the face, but there was no way he was letting him compare Castiel – his friend; _Sam_'s friend. The angel that had rescued him from Hell; that had rescued _Sam_ from Hell; that had taken shit from both him and Sam, and _still_ given everything and saved them more times than _either_ of them could count –, to that manipulative bitch Ruby.

"This is _nothing_ like the Ruby thing, Sam." he snarled, the obvious wrath in his voice making Sam falter and actually straighten up in surprise, "And you wanna know why?" Sam frowned slightly, a careful expression on his face that meant he knew he'd pushed too much, that Dean wasn't in control of what he was saying anymore.

Dean didn't care.

"Because I _know_ it's wrong, and I _know_ it's not ideal, but at least I know that I'm not being manipulated and following a demonic bitch around like a lapdog," Sam opened his mouth to protest, but Dean wasn't finished, "And I _know_ the friggin dicks with wings from upstairs are no different than her, alright?" His eyes glared with a dark accusation that made Sam shrink in shame. "But guess what? I don't trust _any_ of those sons' of bitches. I trust _Cas_. Because if there's _anyone _I can trust, it's _him_."

Dean knew Sam had noticed the pointed blame in his voice, just like he knew that Sam was not likely to openly argue with him about this after such an accusation. And he was surprised at how true it was.

He didn't trust Sam. Not like he'd used to. As much as it pained him to admit it, they were back at the start of the Apocalypse, when Sam had trusted a demon over him. The trust they had gained on each other by the end of the battle had crumbled down to nothing.

But that didn't mean he hated Sam. He loved him above everyone and everything. Because no matter what happened, he was still his little brother. But Sam had hidden himself from him for a _year_, and building up the trust between them was going to take more than a talk and a hug.

Dean knew it.

Sam knew it.

They both knew it.

"So you can go right ahead and tell me that I don't know what I'm doing, and that I have not control over what's going on. But I know damn well what I'm getting into, Sam."

They looked at each other, the moment stretching out as Dean oozed conviction and determination while Sam watched him carefully, looking for any doubt or hesitation in him.

_**SPLASH!**_

That was, of course, before a good five gallons of cold water fell on top of them, wetting them to the bone and completely substituting the tension with confusion and annoyance as they looked at themselves, then at the ceiling.

There was nothing there.

Dean closed his eyes, frowning, his shoulders shaking in utter annoyance as he roared, "Gabriel!"

The three angels appeared by them in the blink of an eye, ready to defend the brothers, only for their eyes to widen slightly as they found them completely drenched.

He could see the amusement in Mel's eyes as she tried not to smile while Cas frowned slightly, eyes narrowed as he tilted his head in question. Gabriel, of course, was cracking up.

Dean glared at the archangel, but the shorter man continued to laugh, his brown and golden wings quivering as he finally made an effort to stop himself. Miel's white and light gray wings were relaxed at her back, slightly extended as she stopped hiding her smile. Cas's dark wings were ruffled with confusion, and Dean couldn't help but feel his annoyance slowly slip away as his own amusement grew.

Finally managing to control himself, Gabriel gave a final chuckle before taking a breath, wiping an invisible tear from his eye, "Oh, sorry, that was just hilarious." Mischief shone in his eyes, "But, sadly, it wasn't me."

Any other day, and Dean wouldn't have believed him for a second. But he could see the archangel's grace now, shinning forest green, deep in his golden eyes, and he knew he wasn't lying.

"Right, of course you didn't." Sam glared, looking down at his very wet self in annoyance and discomfort, looking pretty much like a giant wet dog and with a grade-A bitch-face that actually made Dean snort.

A quiet giggle drew his attention elsewhere, however, and he turned to the stairs to see Ben crouched at the top, shoulders shaking as he tried to muffle his laughter. Suddenly, he wasn't so angry anymore, but that didn't mean he'd let the kid off the hook that easy. "Ben?" He said, mock anger in his voice. "Come down here, kiddo."

Ben flinched, leaning to the side to look through the railing, only to find every pair of eyes in the room set completely on him. Wincing nervously, he walked down the stairs to stand next to Dean, who folded his arms at his chest and looked down at him with a raised eyebrow. "So?" Ben shrunk, trying to make himself as small as possible, but before he could start defending himself, another voice came from the second floor.

"Dean?" Lisa was suddenly walking down the stairs, either alarmed by his previous yell or curious about the laughter. Being a mother, and as she looked at Sam and Dean and noticed Ben trying to hide behind the hunter, it only took her a minute to put two and two together.

"Benjamin Isaac Braden." She started, hands at her hips, "What did you do?"

"I didn't do it!" he whined, hiding completely behind Dean as Lisa walked over to stand next to them.

"More to the point," Dean added, now genuinely curious, "_How_ did you do it?"

Relief flooded the boy's face, as it was obvious that Dean didn't seem angry at all, and he looked up with a grin and a shrug, "My new friend helped me!"

And if it wasn't creepy when kids say that in movies, it was even scarier when you knew that _new friends_ could actually be quite real.

"Who's your new friend?" Lisa asked while the hunters and the angels frowned.

And you'd think he'd be able to feel them coming by now, but as a childish voice chirped behind him, Dean just barely jumped out of his skin, "I am!"

"Holy—!" he yelled, for what seemed to be the second time in one day, "Do any of you know how to friggin' warn a person before popping out of nowhere?" he asked, trying and failing to hide the fact that he'd just jumped away from a kid.

And it really did look like a kid; a boy around Ben's age, with short blond hair and bright blue eyes. His wings were pure white, and so was his grace. Quickly giving away what the boy really was (to Dean, at least).

So, the kid was an angel. Awesome. But it wasn't really the fact that he was an angel that gave him a bad feeling, but the familiar amusement and mischief hiding in those big blue eyes…mischief that he'd only seen in…

"Eli!" Gabriel laughed, "How're you doing, kiddo? Got bored of being upstairs already?" The boy turned to the archangel, his smile an echo of the Trickster's as he zapped to stand next to Gabe.

"Eli," Miel's voice interrupted them, and Dean could have sworn Mel sounded like a mother right then, the way she looked at the young angel making her vessel seem older. "I thought I told you to stay home."

"But it's so boring up there! And Joshua won't let me play." God, the kid was really a younger version of Gabriel. "Besides, why do _you_ get to have all the fun?"

"Well, I'd say you've had a little too much fun already, Elijah." She eyed him with a raised eyebrow, nodding briefly towards the Winchesters. The little angel turned to face them, as though he'd forgotten he'd just dropped a few gallons of water on them.

Then he started laughing, scratching the back of his neck in a way that could almost be considered sheepish.

"I just sort of flew in on them having some very heated, serious talk." The grin on his face was all too much like Gabriel's, "So I thought I'd help them cool down a bit."

Without saying anything, the archangel stretched out a hand, palm up, and the little angel gave him a high five, like this was a normal occurrence with the two of them. Dean was getting a headache just to think of what they'd do next.

"Good one, Eli." He congratulated with a wink, amusement shinning in his golden eyes along with a very obvious pride that made Sam rolls his eyes. And Dean couldn't help but agree on this one.

The Trickster's Apprentice.

Great.

That was just what they needed.

"So, what's the plan?" the youngest angel chirped, eyes shinning with excitement and a thirst for adventure he'd seen in Ben a few times. _No! No, Dean. Focus, man. Don't get attached to the squirt. Bad idea. _"What do I do?"

Before Gabriel had a chance to complicate things, Castiel intervened, "You and Miel will stay in the house and make sure no harm comes to Lisa or Ben." Dean practically deflated with relief. Angel or not, taking a boy with them to fight other angels was not something he'd be comfortable with.

"What? Aw, come on!" he whined, "Cas, please? I wanna go with you guys." And then those big blue eyes widened, glassy and shinning with one of the most endearing puppy faces he'd seen. And Sam and Ben usually got the cake on that one. Dean gave Cas points for looking straight at him without even faltering, and the boy must have known it was a dead end, because he turned his eyes to the other two angels.

"Oh, no." Miel grinned, "You're not fooling me, Eli," she ruffled the boy's hair, "You're stuck here with me until Castiel says otherwise."

Finally giving up, Elijah dropped the face to fold his arms at his chest with a displeased expression. "Fine."

Gabriel laughed, patting the young angel's shoulder in a reassuring manner, "Come on, squirt, I'm sure it won't be that bad." He nodded towards Ben, who was looking at the angel with obvious curiosity, and winked, "Besides, it seems like we have a potential Trickster in the house." He grinned at Ben, who stepped slightly behind Dean before smiling back, "I'm sure you'll find a way to entertain yourselves."

As Elijah grinned at the boy, plans already going through his mind, Miel sighed and looked up at the Heavens, "Great. Why me? Now I won't get a minute of rest for sure." And Dean truly didn't envy the girl. Staying in the house with these two jokers was close to a living nightmare. Judging by the smile in her eyes, however, Dean guessed she didn't really mind it all that much.

"Poor Melly," Gabriel teased, "Even with the cat out of the bag you're still playing babysitter."

She narrowed her eyes at him, and Lisa and Ben laughed while Dean grinned. Cas had one of his small smiles on his face, and Sam seemed mildly amused, even if he didn't get the joke.

"What are all you idjits laughin' at?" Bobby grumbled good-humoredly as he joined them from his studio (Dean wasn't sure how that was even possible, but the old hunter somehow managed to sound grouchy whether he was in a good mood or not). "It's close to lunch time, and there ain't no food in this house," he was looking pointedly at Sam and Dean when he said that, "So unless you wanna starve ta death, someone better go get the groceries, and it sure as hell won't be me."

The old man's eyes made it quite clear that he wanted Sam and Dean to get _their heads outta their asses_ and talk their disagreements out. He couldn't say he wasn't surprised when Sam scratched the back of his head and gave a lame excuse about having something to do, but if he was honest with himself, Dean knew he wasn't really in the mood for a session of awkward silence in the car either.

"Suit yourself, Ginormo," he responded, hiding all signs of their earlier discussion. He glanced at Cas, who was already looking at him like he knew he was going to ask. And he probably did. He raised an eyebrow, "What do ya say, Feathers? You up for some grocery shopping?"

The angel nodded, and Dean chose to ignore the amusement in Gabriel's eyes as he nodded back and turned to Ben, raising his eyebrows, "Any suggestions?"

"Can we make cheeseburgers?" he beamed, big brown eyes pleading as he looked at his mother and the hunter, "Please?"

Lisa sighed, rolling her eyes with a smile on her face, and the boy was already bouncing with excitement as Dean turned to Bobby and his brother, "Complaints?"

Bobby shook his head, chuckling before turning to walk back to his studio, Sam grinned at Ben, and the boy jumped up with a cheer that made everyone in the room smile.

"Alright then," Dean grinned, "Burgers it is."

* * *

"No, man," Dean repeated, unable to hide his amusement as Cas held up two different kinds of cheese, "I'm telling you, if it's not American, then the taste is gone. It's an _All-American_ Cheeseburger, which means you have to use _American_ cheese. That's just how it works." He raised his eyebrows expectantly, waiting for the angel to get it.

Castiel eyed the two packets with a small frown, turning blue eyes to Dean as he tilted his head in confusion, his dark wings ruffling slightly behind him as he tried to understand. "But we're in America," he reasoned, "So this would be considered American cheese as well."

Dean chuckled, tossing a couple packets of cheese into the basket before taking the ones from Cas's hands; putting a hand on his shoulder, he looked at him in the eye. "Cas," he deadpanned, "That's cheddar, and that's blue cheese. Not American. Gotta read the labels, man." He patted his shoulder before turning to put the packets back in their places.

He picked up the basket and made his way towards the cashier, the angel following behind him. And really, he should have known that something as ordinary and normal as grocery shopping just couldn't last.

The poor cashier girl barely had time to take the first item from the basket before the lights of the supermarket exploded, sending sparks everywhere. The girl screamed, covering her eyes as broken glass and burning sparks rained on them.

"Get down!" He yelled at her, relieved to see her obey and hastily fall to her knees, hands gripping her head.

Hearing screams coming from one of the aisles in the small supermarket, Dean felt dread forming in his stomach as he realized they weren't the only customers. He barely had to say anything for the angel to disappear from his side, only to zap back to him with a scared woman and a little boy that couldn't have been more than five.

Coming to stand beside her, he put his arm around her back while she clutched her son tightly, guiding them around the register to hide with the girl. "Stay there!" He yelled over the sound of exploding lights. "And whatever you do, keep your eyes closed!" Once the woman managed to nod at him, Dean turned to stand next to Cas.

"Raphael?" he asked. The angel's eyebrows were furrowed as he studied the dark establishment, tense and ready to fight.

"I'm not sure," Cas admitted, eyes roaming the darkness, "It could be scouts. Raphael is looking everywhere for you and your brother." He frowned, blue eyes a storming sea, "I thought the sigils on your ribs would be enough for now. I may have underestimated him." There was an apology in his voice, and Dean took notice of it, and accepted it in his own way.

"Good thing we decided to buy two towns away from Bobby's then." And he really _was_ relieved. If the angels had found them so close to home, then Lisa and Ben would have been in more danger than he was willing to put them.

"You should take this." He glanced down to see a short silver sword in Cas's hand, taking it hesitantly from him. As though feeling this, Castiel gave him a sideways glance, "I have my own." He assured him. "I brought another just in case."

Now that's embarrassing. Did that mean Cas had anticipated he'd forget? Yup. Pretty much. He cleared his throat, "Right. Thanks."

The sky had darkened outside, and a heavy rain had already started splattering on the pavement as the thick glass door of the store shattered to pieces, making the woman and the girl scream behind them. The boy started crying.

"Friggin' showoffs," Dean snarled, "Way to make a scene in the middle of the day."

Castiel didn't answer, instead keeping his eyes on their surroundings. As he glanced to his back, Dean could see the angel's wings tense, expanding enough to shield the people behind them.

"Well, well, well," a voice reached them from the side, and both angel and hunter turned to face their enemy. A tall man in an expensive business suit made himself visible as he walked from behind one of the aisles. Even in the darkness, Dean could discern his slicked back blond hair, a similar color to that of his grace, shinning yellow inside dark brown eyes. "If it isn't the infamous Michael Sword." The smirk was obvious in his voice, and his tone vaguely reminded Dean of Zachariah's business-like talk. That alone was enough to make him want to vomit in a corner.

Finally stepping into the dim red light of the exit signs, Dean was able to see his wings, arching proud at his back, dark gold bathed in red.

"And who's this?" cold brown eyes turned to Castiel, and Dean saw the angel's wings extend as though surprised, "Castiel?" the dick angel laughed disbelievingly, "Brother, your vessel is not quite how I'd imagined it would be." He tilted his head, a mockery of Castiel's usual gesture that only made Dean's hand clench around the warm silver sword, "But then again, you _were_ only a foot-soldier not so long ago, not to mention a heathen." The angel's grace screamed jealousy, and Dean had to wonder just how many of Castiel's brothers hated him simply for being an archangel.

Castiel's voice showed no emotion, but his wings betrayed his mask; enough for Dean to guess that this guy was not just any stunt angel #2. "Adoniel."

The angel's face contracted into a small cruel smile, "You recognize me, brother. I'm flattered." The sound of metal being unsheathed made Dean tense, and he raised the knife at chest height, taking a fighting stance. He only hoped he hadn't lost too much practice. Brown eyes were suddenly on him, and the hunter fought the urge to take a step back, "Down, boy." He mocked.

"What do you want, Adoniel?" Castiel demanded, stepping slightly in front of Dean, his dark wings shielding him from view.

Dean could almost hear the sadistic thirst in the blond angel's voice, carefully hidden under a friendly business-like facade, and was unable to prevent the shiver that traveled up his spine.

"I want to tear your charred wings apart, feather by feather, until there's nothing left but bone." A chuckle that was anything but kind echoed in the eerie silence, "Then rip your grace from your chest and keep it as a souvenir."

* * *

_Elijah (c) Apollo199199_


	11. Trouble Ahead

_**AN**: Sorry, it's kind of short. But I need it as a transition for a longer one. Hope you like it, and once again, thanks for the reviews! Keep them coming, they help a lot :)_

_**Disclaimer: **Supernatural is not mine. It's property of master Kripke._

* * *

"I want to tear your charred wings apart, feather by feather, until there's nothing left but bone." A chuckle that was anything but kind echoed in the eerie silence, "Then rip your grace from your chest and keep it as a souvenir."

Now that was just plain creepy, and Dean didn't scare easy, but man, talk about sadistic.

"Close cousin of Lucifer this one, huh?" he mumbled, more to himself than anything.

_I swear, these guys are worse than demons sometimes._

Dean chanced a look at Castiel. Impervious as always, Cas was leveling the son of a bitch with one of his coldest looks. There was no anger, fear or even the slightest bit of annoyance. Cas was just…staring the douche down. He almost smirked at that, but he knew this was not the time. Adonis, or whatever his name was, was not trapped in a ring of holy fire like Raphael had been when he'd met him. And Dean knew from seeing Cas fight with his brothers before that these guys were freaking fast.

Frowning as he focused on the situation at hand, he sent a glare of his own to the cocky bastard and gripped his knife tighter.

_Dean._

He glanced at Cas briefly as he heard the angel's voice, but Miel had done this with him a couple times by now, so Dean knew he was the only one that could actually hear him. '_What?'_ He asked, giving a try at this mental conversation thing, and to let Cas know that he was listening.

_Don't let him know that you can see his wings. If they find out you're drinking angel blood, Raphael will double his efforts to kill you._

Wow. No need to sugarcoat it or anything. _'Got it.'_

"So, brother," Adonis started, "Will you lower yourself to my level and fight me? A mere servant under the awesome power of the Archangels? Surely I don't pose a threat to your magnificence?"

"You know what?" Dean interrupted, already annoyed by the pompous banter, "We're actually kinda busy right now," he gave the angel a sardonic grin, "So how about you make an appointment, and we'll kick your ass later?" he raised his eyebrows, "Sound good for you, Adonis?"

The angel's eyes narrowed, and Dean felt Castiel's wings hovering over him protectively – he couldn't look at them, or Ado would realize he could see them. "The name is Adoniel, you impudent sack of dirt. Don't you dare compare me to those so-called _gods_, or I might just smite you where you stand."

One blink, and Castiel was in front of the angel, the cold air moving with him as their swords clashed. Dean's eyes widened slightly at the attack, feeling slightly vulnerable at the strength oozing from both creatures as they stood their ground, one in front of the other.

It was then that he saw it, a change in Adoniel's grace, and he felt panic clog his throat.

"Cas!"

Castiel must have noticed it too, for he suddenly jumped back and away from the blond, eyes alert, only for a new angel to appear in front of him, thrusting his sword at Cas's neck. Dodging easily, Cas plucked him a couple of fast strong punches that disoriented the suited angel long enough for him to stab through his neck. Dean covered his eyes as the angel's grace filled the building with white light, a scream echoing in the wind.

"Still fights like a foot soldier." A voice commented condescendingly to his right. Dean's heightened senses took over for him, and he slashed without thinking twice.

Adoniel appeared a bit further from him again, to his left, looking at the rip in his pristine suit with a displeased scowl. "How rude. I liked this suit."

Dean glared at the angel, knowing better than to keep his eyes away from him for a mere second. Adoniel raised an eyebrow, brown eyes amused and annoyed at the same time. "You really think you can take me on, boy?" he spat, "You're nothing but an insect."

As if to prove his statement, he waved a hand, sending Dean flying to the nearest wall. The hunter grunted, clenching his eyes as his back met the painted brick, cursing all who heard him as the sword slipped from his grasp. Swallowing, his opened his eyes and searched for Castiel, who was now surrounded by five angels right next to the dairy products.

_Well shit._

"Now stay put, will you?" He looked back at Adoniel, lips curling up in a snarl as he felt the angel's grace tighten around his throat, preventing any insults from leaving his mouth. The angel winked, "Can't lure my brother in if you tip him now, can I?" Dean felt his stomach clench, and tried to struggle against the angel's hold. He screamed Cas's name in his mind, only to see the angel in front of him laugh, "You didn't think I hadn't noticed the little intimate dialogue the two of you had, did you? Kind of makes me wonder what he was telling you, that he couldn't say it out loud…" he shook his head, then shrugged, "Oh well, guess it doesn't matter much now." He took a peek over his shoulder, grinning as he saw only two angels left standing around Castiel, then looked back at him, "I should probably rough you up a bit, shouldn't I? It'll make it look more convincing."

Dean's eyes darkened with hatred, but then a sudden force punched the air out of his lungs, and he let out a strangled gasp. With Adoniel's yellow grace still choking him, he struggled to breathe while the blond dickhead kept throwing invisible hits with just a twitch of his fingers.

So much for fighting off the angels. He was starting to realize why Gabriel had thought of the angel blood idea in the first place. It only took one that was a rank or two higher than a stunt angel to kick their asses. He'd have to tell Gabe to think of a faster way to get stronger. They might not have as much time as they'd thought.

The beating he was getting was proof enough of that.

Suddenly, the hits stopped, and Dean barely had time to react as Adoniel gave him a conspiratorial smirk before Cas appeared behind him, putting a burning hand on his shoulder and launching him towards the wall at the other end of the establishment, the echo of an agonized shriek following after.

A flash of Michael burning Anna to ashes crossed his mind.

Dean slid down the wall, gasping for breath as Castiel caught him, holding him up by the lapels of his jacket. Blue eyes searched his, "Dean." He coughed, bringing a hand to his neck as he tried to warn the angel, but his voice was clawing at his throat, and his mind had been locked away from his friend. "Dean, are you okay?"

A movement behind them, and Castiel tensed, finally realizing what was happening.

Too late.

The sickening crunch of metal piercing flesh echoed in the roar of the storm, and Dean's voice sprung free.

"CAS!"

* * *

"I'm hungry." Ben whined for the fifteenth time in an hour.

Miel smiled, "We heard you the first time."

Sam glanced at them and wondered once again just how she could deal with those two monsters. The angel had been dealing with both her little brother and Ben for almost three hours now. And they hadn't exactly stayed put.

It seemed like hunger had finally drained Ben's appetite for pranks and jokes, and the boy was now sprawled on one side of Bobby's couch, a miserable expression on his face.

Lisa was talking to Bobby in the study, talking about Dean and the matter at hand as the old hunter researched and she cleaned up the dusty room –needing something to do.

"I'm bored." The youngest angel in the room complained, lying on the other side of the old couch, his head on Miel's lap, who sat in between the two.

"Gotta agree with the squirt, there," Gabriel commented, "Not much to do in the old dog's house."

Sam rolled his eyes, trying to keep himself under control and not snap at the archangel. Last time he'd done it, he'd gotten ice cream in his pants for his trouble. Once again, courtesy of Eli, who'd made it his personal goal to _'help him cool off'_ when he got angry.

"When will Dean and Cassie come back?" Eli asked, blue eyes looking up at Miel. "It's been almost four hours!"

Miel sighed, running her fingers through her brother's blond hair distractedly, "Human transportation is slow, Eli, and they went to get the food a couple towns away from here."

"Exactly," Gabriel agreed, although for a totally different reason, "You'd think Deano could have agreed to a quick trip and be back in five minutes, but noooo," he rolled his eyes, "Mr. Winchester doesn't like Angel Air Lines. So we're stuck here waiting." Gabriel folded his arms, practically looking like a pouty five-year-old.

Sam sighed. He was stuck in the same room with a smaller version of Dean (hunger and all), a young celestial prankster, and an immature archangel. The day just couldn't get any better.

Still, he had to admit that it was taking his brother way too long to fetch the groceries. Even from two towns over, Dean was known for speeding. He should have been back half an hour ago.

His thoughts were interrupted as the lights suddenly flickered and a piercing noise made all humans in the house cringe. By the time he looked up again, Miel was gripping her head with a pained expression, and Eli had jerked up while Gabriel rushed to his younger sister.

"Melly?" he asked, pulling her hands from her head to place his own on her cheeks. Miel gripped his arms, her eyes wide and panicked. "Miel, what is it?"

Sam tensed at the mere thought of trouble, immediately standing from his chair to walk next to Gabriel.

"Castiel," she whimpered, "Castiel," clear blue eyes looked pleadingly at the archangel's dark golden ones, "He's hurt. They found them."

Gabriel's face went slack, eyes serious; Sam would never really get used to not seeing the ever-present mischief in his eyes. "Do you know where they are?"

Miel nodded, moving her hands to the sides of her brother's head, and Gabriel closed his eyes for a second before straightening and stepping back. "I'll go get them." He assured.

Before Sam looked down to notice that Elijah had stood as well, Gabriel ordered, "You stay here, Eli. Understand? You and Melly keep the house safe. I'll be back in no time."

Eli barely had enough time to open his mouth before the archangel disappeared in an echo of fluttering wings. The little angel frowned, then sat back next to his sister, letting her put an arm around him in silent consolation. As though feeling the fear coming from Ben, Miel extended her other arm, silently offering the young boy comfort. And, if Ben was anything like Dean, he'd deny any fear with all his might, but something about Miel instilled a feeling of security that Sam guessed only a mother could give. As he watched the boy curl up at her side, he briefly wondered what it would be like to feel safe like that.

Blue eyes looked up at him, and Sam wondered if the angel had read his thoughts when she smiled. Feeling warmth travel through him, he returned the smile. He'd heard Bobby mention something about her being the angel of joy and hope.

_Ramiel._

Her eyes shined briefly as he said her real name in his mind. With a sigh, he sat down at Ben's other side, ruffling the boy's hair.

"Where's the angel?" he looked up to see Bobby standing next to Lisa.

"Cas is hurt. The angels found them." He responded with a worried frown, thanking Miel for her calming presence. "Gabriel went over to help."

Bobby's brow furrowed with a frown of his own, and Lisa's eyes widened in sudden concern. "Do you—"

His words were muted by the clash of thunder that made the house shake. The angels remaining in the room tensed, and Eli jumped to his feet, rushing to the window.

"Miel." He called, his tone serious.

Mel hugged Ben to her one last time before standing up to join her brother, only for a worried expression to take over her features.

"What is it?" Sam asked, walking over to the window in two long strides, closely followed by Bobby.

A man stood outside the house, dark skin and clothes making him blend in amongst the sudden darkness that enveloped the junkyard. Miel looked up at him, blue eyes shinning with a tinge of something that Sam managed to recognize as sadness and fear.

"Raphael."


	12. Angel's Lullaby

Dean's heart hammered against his chest as he saw the bloodied tip of Adoniel's silver sword, staring at him mockingly from Castiel's chest. Green eyes widened as the blade disappeared with another gut-wrenching sound. Castiel swayed, staggering forward, and Dean rushed to hold him up, pulling him away from the blond angel.

"Cas?" he could feel his friend's ragged breath on his chest. "Cas!" he managed to move his hand to make Castiel look up at him. His eyes were slightly hazed, and while he didn't look in pain, Dean could see his grace darken to a deep blue color. "Say something!"

"Now, now, don't be so harsh, human." Adoniel admonished, still too close for comfort, even if he'd managed to step a few feet away from him. He was staring at the blade with a small look of disappointment in his eyes. "Hmph. And here I thought I'd get a clean stab through the heart." Brown eyes shone yellow for a moment as he looked at Castiel, who was holding on to Dean's arms for support. "You got my good arm, brother."

It was then that Dean noticed the smell, and his lip curled up at the stench of burnt flesh surrounding the angel. His whole left arm was burnt black, his hand gone in ashes while his side showed angry red burns on boiling skin. Bringing his eyes back to the silver sword in the angel's hand, he stepped further back, starting to move to the side as his back hit the wall again.

'_Come on, Cas. Don't pass out on me, man. We need to get rid of this clown first.'_

And maybe his mind was open to the angel again, because Cas suddenly stiffened in his grip, pushing himself up straight to turn around and face Adoniel. In the brief moment when blue eyes met green, Dean discerned the agony still present in the ocean colored grace; pulsing with searing pain so clear that Dean could almost feel it himself. As he looked at the wound closely for the first time, he thanked whoever heard him that the sword had stabbed on the left side of the angel's chest, practically under his shoulder, and yet…

…Too close to the heart for comfort.

"My, my, brother. You look terrible, maybe you should lie down for a while." Adoniel mocked, eyes shinning with the satisfaction of seeing the new archangel in pain. Dean glared at him, feeling content himself when he noticed the change in the other's grace. Getting burnt by holy fire apparently hurt like hell. He almost smirked at the thought.

"And you should have made sure I was dead before rejoicing." Castiel's voice was lower than usual, making the ground shake, and Adoniel barely had time to react as Castiel threw his blade, which went right by the bastard's face…

…And straight through his right wing.

The agonized shriek that followed made the remaining glass of the doors and windows shatter to dust, and Dean covered his ears, clenching his eyes shut and letting out a pained yell as the sound thundered inside his head. He could hear the screams coming from behind the cashier, and only hoped Adoniel would keep ignoring them.

Suddenly the sound was muffled, like a wall had been put around him, and he opened his eyes to see one of Castiel's wings surrounding him protectively. For a second, he thought he felt feathers touch his face and hair, but then the piercing noise stopped, and Castiel retrieved his wing just in time for Dean to see the look of absolute wrath in Adoniel's eyes.

The angel's suave voice was now deformed and contorted into a dark, broken roar as he snarled at Castiel, a string of Enochian words that dripped with such hatred and homicidal rage that there was no real need for translation.

Looking at Cas, he suddenly noticed the way his shoulders slumped forward, his breath coming out in shallow rasps while the left side of his trench coat was slowly but surely starting to get soaked in blood.

"_Heathen! I shall make sure to rip the wings from your back and rip your grace from your burning vessel!"_ Dean swallowed. This was not good. This was so not good. Glancing back at Cas, Dean felt fear clawing at his stomach as he realized something else.

Cas was not armed.

_Shit_.

His thoughts went to his own fallen blade, and he only hoped Cas could keep himself standing as he ran to the discarded knife. He knew he'd screwed up the moment he felt Adoniel's burning grace on his back.

Before he knew it, he was being held up in the air, Adoniel's hand clutching at his throat.

"_You filthy ape, I have grown tired of your interferences."_ Dean felt his eyes start rolling to the back of his head, his mouth falling open as he struggled to take one last breath, the edges of his vision fading to black.

Then he was falling to the floor again, and as a rush of air flooded his lungs as his back collided with the ground. He coughed painfully a couple of times before his vision cleared and he was able to look up.

Castiel was standing in front of him, his left arm hanging useless at his side while his right hand held Dean's sword at chest height, facing the scorched angel. As he pushed himself up to his elbows, the hunter called out his friend's name hoarsely, "Cas."

The angel's shoulders were heaving with ragged breaths, and Adoniel's maniacal laughter made Dean wince. "How much until you pass out, brother? You ought to keep better control of your grace."

Frowning in confusion, Dean looked back at Castiel. As he looked at the wound, he noticed with downing horror that there was a soft white-blue light oozing from the gaping red hole. The fact that Cas suddenly started to lose his balance and barely managed to stay standing was enough to let Dean know just how much he'd been hurt. With a grunt, he pushed himself off the floor.

He caught the blade as it slipped Cas's fingers and gripped the bloodied trench coat to prevent the angel from falling. All the while, he sent the suited angel a dark glare. "Yeah, well you're not exactly a poster boy for professionalism either." He snarled, voice still rough, "And could you do something about the smell? You're stinking up the place, chuckles."

Dean could see the bloodied wings quivering in agony behind Adoniel, and he could see the way his yellowed grace pulsed painfully with the mere effort of keeping himself conscious. But apparently they'd had the luck of running into an annoyingly stubborn son of a bitch.

_Yay us._

"Gotta agree with Deano there," Dean's heart jumped in his chest at the familiar voice, and he looked to his right to see Gabriel standing next to him, nose scrunched up in disgust, "Where did personal hygiene go?" He whistled.

Adoniel actually had the decency to pale at the sight of the archangel. "Gabriel." Brown eyes widened slightly in fear, his good wing tensing at his back.

"What's wrong, Ado? Not happy to see me?" While he was still smirking, there was no humor in his voice, which sort of made him look pretty scary. Not that Dean would ever admit that. Golden eyes went to the burnt arm. "Good, seems like Cassie did half the work for me."

Just like that, Dean found himself standing behind the chips and salty snacks, Castiel still leaning heavily against him. Unable to see what was going on with Gabe and the blond snob, he helped Cas to the floor, propping him against the shelves. Moving to the other side, he pulled the trench coat and jacket from his shoulder so he could see the wound better.

"Shit."

The sword had stabbed through his back, right under his left clavicle. And the asshole must have twisted it around, because it seemed like the hole was more stretched open than it should have been. He glanced at the angel's face, frowning when he saw Cas's eyes shut, cold sweat damping his forehead.

"Cas?" he tried, sighing in relief when the angel let out a low grunting noise in response. He needed to keep him awake. "Why is there—" he cleared his throat, "Why's there light coming from the wound? Is that your grace?"

_Please, tell me it's not your grace._

"Yes," Castiel's voice was hoarse with pain, and Dean winced, "And…no." he replied.

_Leave it to Cas to be ambiguous even when he's dying._ He mentally kicked himself. _No. Not dying._

"Right," he breathed, "Well then what the hell is it?" he tried to bring out the irritation and bury the gnawing worry out of his voice's reach. As Cas managed to open his eyes slightly to give him a sideways look, he knew he'd failed.

"It's…" He tried to sit up, an attempt that resulted in a pained grunt.

"Easy, easy," Dean mumbled as he pulled the angel up, helping him into a more comfortable position.

"Thanks…" Cas rasped, swallowing, "It's the angel equivalent" he coughed wetly, "of bleeding…you could say."

"Well _that's_ good news." Dean eyed the wound uneasily, "I take it adding pressure won't work." He suggested, voice vainly hopeful.

"Doubt it."

"Great." He managed to look away from the hole in Cas's chest to glance at the angel's barely open eyes, "Well, do you know anything that _will_ work?" he pressed, not liking how much blood had already stained the tan trench coat.

"I'm trying to close the wound," Cas replied, voice strained.

Dean winced, then glanced back at the source of all their problems. He thought he could see Castiel's darker blue essence working around the gaping wound, but he wasn't sure. "How's that going?"

"Much slower than I expected…" he muttered, suddenly choking on a breath and coughing out a mouthful of blood.

"Cas!" he called helplessly.

* * *

"Gotta give it to ya, Ado," Gabriel chuckled as soon as he got his brother and Dean out of the line of fire, "Never thought I'd see the day when you'd be literally as _smokin' hot_ as you like to say you are."

"How could you?" Adoniel hissed, "How could you join that heathen and those stinking mud monkeys? They're nothing but a disgrace to everything Heaven stands for."

"Right. Because you know exactly what it stands for, don't you, buddy boy?" Gabriel snorted. Looking around the destroyed establishment, he made a face, "I'm not really one to talk here but… really? A _supermarket_? In the middle of the day? Talk about subtle."

"I could care less," the lower angel rasped, "As long as that rotting demon burns, the casualties don't matter."

Gabriel's eyes turned serious, "That's our brother you're talking about." He raised an eyebrows, "Who is also an archangel, mind you. Might have to start practicing your curtsy, kid. Which reminds me, how about you beat it before I lose my _archangelic_ patience?" the grin did not reach his eyes, and Gabriel could see the fear in Adoniel's yellow grace.

When nothing happened, he arched a questioning eyebrow, "I knew you were arrogant, Adoniel, but I never took you as suicidal." Dark golden eyes finally noticed the maimed wing, and the archangel actually winced (not in an entirely mocking way). "Ouch. You must have really pissed little Cassie off. Were you a bad boy?"

Adoniel snarled, his right wing shivering with the mere effort of staying up. A bloodied angel sword was placed defensively between himself and the archangel, and Gabriel's eyes narrowed at the blood staining the blade. "Do not patronize me, Gabriel. You might have been a powerful warrior once upon a time, but all these years on Earth have made you weak." Gabriel smirked.

"Actually," Adoniel's eyes widened as he heard the archangel behind him, and looked in alarm between the two identical copies of Gabriel standing in the room, "I like to think it's made me more badass." Mischievousness glimmered in his golden eyes as Ado took a step back in fear, but not fast enough to prevent Gabriel from placing a hand on his shoulder. "Bye, bro."

Adoniel's eyes widened in absolute horror as his grace burnt from the inside out, scorching his vessel into a black statue of ashes before crumbling to the ground.

"Cas!" Dean's voice reached him from the other side of the supermarket, and he frowned before flying to them, his fake copy fading in a blue mirage.

* * *

Dean looked up in alarm when someone appeared beside him, only to relax as he recognized the archangel. Gabriel leaned down to crouch in front of Cas, and he reluctantly stepped back to let him work his magic.

"Can you heal him?" He asked, eyes focused on the older angel.

Gabriel's eyes were serious, but there was a certain fondness as he put his hand on Castiel's wound, making the angel wince slightly. "Not that the guy's not an asshole, Cassie," he started, "But did you really have to stab his wing? It hurt to look at."

Castiel let out a choked breath that could have been a chuckle in other circumstances, and a small sheepish grin curled his lips upward, "I was…aiming…for his neck."

Dean gaped as the archangel laughed, _actually fucking laughed_ while Cas was bleeding to death right in front of them. "You never _were_ good at knife throwing." Gabriel shook his head with an amused sigh, "Okay, Feathers, let's fix you up a bit and get you home."

Cas nodded, letting his head fall back against the shelves behind him as Gabriel pressed his hand to his chest. When he lifted it, the wound was gone. Letting out a breath of relief, Dean looked at Cas's face only to see the lines of pain still very present in his features. With a frown, he glanced up at Gabriel, who was looking at him slightly apologetically.

"I can only heal the vessel for now, his grace will have to wait."

"Fine, just take us back already." Dean accepted with a scowl, not liking how pale Cas's face was.

"Oh, wait!" Gabriel disappeared, and Dean could have punched the floor in frustration.

"Son of a bitch! Where the hell did he go?" he turned glaring eyes at Castiel, as though the wounded angel could know the answer.

Cas gave him one of his stares and shrugged slightly, his wince not going unnoticed to the hunter, "How should I know? It's Gabriel." Well at least he could talk better now.

"I swear, when I get my hands around that bastard's neck—"

"I'm back!" Dean all but jumped as the shorter man popped out of nowhere right beside him, falling on his behind with wide eyes before noticing the bags in the Trickster's hands.

"Are those—" he asked, anger and disbelief in his voice, "Are those our groceries?"

"Yep!" he chirped, chewing on some candy bar he'd surely stolen from the cashier, "The pups are hungry, and mommy and daddy took too long. So it's up to uncle Gabe to get food," he clicked his tongue, "How embarrassing."

"Yeah, whatever, Loki," he groaned, "Just get us back already."

Gabriel made a displeased noise and rolled his eyes, turning to look at Cas. "Really, Cassie, I don't know how you stand him." He scoffed, "So demanding!"

"_Gabriel_."

"Got it."

* * *

"Eli, wait!" Miel took hold of her brother's arm, as though predicting he'd try to fly outside. "Please, don't fight him." She begged, "It'll weaken you, and I need you to protect the house."

"Well, then what?" he complained, "Will _you_ go out there? You're not trained for battle, Melly!" the little angel looked up at her sister, already knowing he was going to lose this argument.

"Just, trust me," she pleaded, "I just need to distract him long enough to give Gabriel time to get back." She glanced at the humans at her charge and then outside, "The house is warded, but you should lift a field."

"But then what about—"

"I'll go with her." Sam finally stepped towards them. The angels turned to him in disbelief, but Bobby seemed to recover faster.

"What are you babbling about, boy?" he jerked Sam around to look at him, "Do you _know_ who's standin' outside the house? Are you plannin' on gettin' yourself killed?"

Sam saw Lisa sit next to Ben out of the corner of his eye, eyes determined as the boy held onto his mother in fear. "I've told you before, Bobby. I'm not human anymore," he glanced outside, "Maybe I can hold him off long enough."

"Maybe," Eli intervened, "But it's not for sure, and we can't risk any of you going out there. You'll be an easy target."

Sam ran a hand through his hair in frustration, "Just…let me try." He looked at Miel, "Please."

Mel eyed him carefully, her eyes reading more than Sam would ever know. Finally, she heaved a sigh, "Alright. But stay inside the field unless it's strictly necessary."

Elijah gave his sister a disbelieving look, which was mirrored by Bobby, but before anyone could disagree, she disappeared in a flutter of feathers.

The little angel cursed in Enochian, glancing at Sam with an unreadable look before also disappearing from the room, Sam along with him.

They appeared on the front porch, and Sam could already feel the power radiating from the archangel standing in front of them. Miel had already stepped outside, and stood about ten feet away from her older brother. Glancing at the little boy, Sam thought he could hear him mumble a string of words in angel tongue, and blinked as a transparent sheen of blue covered the house briefly before turning invisible to the eye.

"Raphael." He heard Miel call, her voice grave and with a seriousness she hadn't seen before in the young angel.

"Ramiel." The archangel's voice resonated with strength in the air, "May I inquire as to why you have joined these humans against your own family, sister?"

"I have not acted against our family, brother," she replied calmly, "I am merely following our Father's wishes."

Raphael's eyes narrowed, the skies roaring above him, "You claim to know what Father wants?"

"He told us to love them, Raphael!" Miel's voice brought up strong winds in her sudden burst of anger, "And yet you _hurt_ them, killing innocent souls for crimes they have not committed!"

"_Michael is in the Pit because of these creatures!_" Sam stiffened as the archangel's wrath made thunder clash over them. "Because of this group of _humans_ that you so defend." Dark eyes focused on him, and Sam felt his blood freeze in his veins.

"What happened to Michael is horrifying," Miel tried to sooth him, "But there is no use in seeking revenge for something that was nothing more that an accident. You know Michael only fell in his attempt to prevent Sam Winchester from imprisoning Lucifer."

Raphael was suddenly in front of Mel, and Sam cringed as his wrath made his knees go weak. The lower angel fell to her knees before the archangel's power, and Elijah tensed beside him.

"_An accident._" He brought a hand to grip Miel's sweater, lifting her up until her feet barely touched the ground, "You blame our brother's predicament on an accident, when the cause of his fall is standing mere feet away from me?" He let her go, making her land heavily on her back. "You dare blame Michael's current agony on a mistake on _his_ part?" he pressed his foot on the weakened angel's throat, "I knew I should not have let Gabriel care for you," he snarled, "You are no better than Castiel, _Ramiel_."

"_Raphael!_" Elijah roared, eyes shinning with hidden power, and the archangel lifted his gaze from Miel, keeping his foot firmly on her throat.

"Elijah." And Sam could have sworn the archangel's eyes softened, "You should not be here. Your place is guarding the Tree of Life."

"My place is wherever the hell I want it to be." Eli snarled back, his childish voice echoing in the darkness. "Now go back to wherever you and your pack of cowards are hiding and leave Miel alone."

"You are much too young to give me orders, Elijah." He admonished, his voice darkening again, "If you interfere, your destiny will be the same as Ramiel's."

"_Leave her alone_."

"Clearly her bond with Castiel has corrupted her," he glanced down at Miel, who was now trying to lift the foot off her throat. Raphael pressed down again, making her let out a choked gasp, "She will be punished."

Eli stepped stepped down from the porch, his hand shinning as energy started gathering around him, "I said, _leave my sister alone_."

"Eli!" Miel choked, "Don't do it!" she gasped, "Protect…the house!"

Feeling anger spark inside him at the helplessness of the young angels, Sam stepped out of the protective field. He saw Elijah's shoulders shake in frustration as the energy faded from his hand, and felt a dark power rise within him.

Raphael's attention had gone back to Miel. And his eyes seemed to sadden for a brief moment as he watched his sister struggle.

"It saddens me to have to do this, Ramiel."

Miel glared, her grace strengthening with her anger, forcing Raphael to press down harder on her throat, "_Bullshit_." She snarled, making her brother's eyes narrow, "If that were true…you'd see what…Castiel…has done…and thank him."

Raphael scowled slightly, "You force my hand, sister." He lifted his hand as though to snap his fingers.

"No!" Eli yelled.

Miel clenched her eyes shut. She was going to die. She was going to die the same way Castiel had died on more than one occasion. Her grace was going to burst out of her vessel and scatter across the universe.

She took a breath, readying herself.

Nothing happened.

Raphael frowned, glancing at his hand to see it shaking, unable to summon his power. He felt a dark power push his grace back, and his eyes widened as he recognized its nature.

Staggering back, he freed the angel bellow him, dark eyes searching the darkness to focus on the figure of Sam Winchester.

No.

"…Lucifer." He uttered.

Sam's lips twitched into a small, cold smile, his head tilting slightly, "Not exactly."

Raphael's eyes widened, "That's impossible."

"You're telling me," Sam agreed, his eyes narrowing as he snarled, raising a hand towards Raphael, "Now get your wings out of here, or I might just try this new power with you."

With a last glare, the archangel disappeared, and Sam let his hand fall with a relieved breath, closing his eyes for a second before rushing to help the fallen angel up.

Miel's blue eyes looked up at him in awe, "How—" she asked, eyes searching his soul once more. Sam gave him a sad smile.

"I'm not sure. But I guess I'm not exactly half _demon_ if he confused me with—"

"Lucifer." She finished, and then did something that Sam had _not_ been expecting.

Miel threw her arms around Sam and hugged him tight, burying her face in his chest.

"Hey," he laughed, surprised, glancing down at the young angel, "What's wrong?"

She shook her head, finally stepping back and wiping her eyes with a bright smile on her face, "Nothing, nothing, just…" she gave him the happiest smile he'd seen directed at him in a long time, "Thank you."

He raised his eyebrows, glancing at the boy standing just a few feet from them, surprised to see a similar smile on his face. "Uh…no problem?" Was it normal for a couple of _angels_ to thank him for having _Lucifer's_ power within him?

Miel laughed, taking his hand and pulling him toward the house, Eli joined them and held his sister's free hand, glancing worriedly at her neck for a moment before grinning and disappearing in a flutter of feathers.

As soon as they made it to the house, there was barely any time to explain what had happened before a gust of wind scattered the papers in Bobby's living room and Gabriel and his brother appeared out of nowhere, carrying between them a weak Castiel.

"Castiel!" he gasped, followed closely by the younger angels while Bobby asked Ben and Lisa to wait in the studio.

Dean and Gabriel carried the wounded angel to the sofa, and Sam searched for any wounds in the weakened vessel, finding an alarming amount of blood on his whole left side, but no wound to blame it on.

"What happened?" he asked, standing next to Dean as his brother stepped back from the angel to let Miel check on him.

"Friggin' ambush, that's what happened," Dean growled, "Some pompous bastard that wanted Cas's wings on a stick. I swear these dicks are worse than rich brats; throwing a tantrum over everything."

They watched silently as Gabriel talked quietly to Miel, Eli standing close by. Mel nodded, then carefully lifted Castiel's head to sit on the sofa and put it gently on her lap. Ocean blue eyes opened slightly to meet her bright blue ones, and the younger angel smiled warmly at her brother, pushing his dark hair out of his face while pressing her other hand to Castiel's chest.

Sam couldn't see anything, but judging from the look in Dean's eyes, something abnormal must have definitely been going on. Before he could ask, Gabriel stepped up to them with an oddly serious face.

"Let's talk somewhere else. He needs rest."

The brothers nodded and followed the archangel out of the living room. Pausing briefly at the door, Sam saw that Castiel's eyes had closed, his face much calmer than moments before. Miel's voice reached him as she started singing softly, speaking in a language that he didn't understand but that seemed to sooth their friend into a light slumber. Eli sat with his legs crossed in front of the sofa, chin on his hands as he heard her sister sing quietly for their brother.

He smiled, turning to see Dean watching as well.

It was good to see that at least a few of Castiel's family still cared.


	13. Reflection of the Fallen

**AN/ **_Sorry it took so long to update! This chapter's been death to write. I need to work on keeping Crowley in character. Also, small warning, Crowley's story and nature will be different from the one in the show, though I still used his dialogue with Bobby, to try to keep it closer to the real thing (and because I loved that episode). Hope I don't suck too much at writing him. Also, thanks for the reviews! I really appreciate you taking the time to comment :)_

**_Disclaimer: _**_I don't own Supernatural or any of its characters, and Elijah belongs to Apollo199199. I do own Miel though._

* * *

"Alright, explain." Gabriel demanded as soon as they walked into Bobby's study. He'd given to grocery bags to Lisa, and her and Ben had gone to the kitchen to get lunch ready.

Dean could see the tension in his wings, the strain to contain himself from lashing out as he cast Sam a thoughtful look, brow furrowed in a frown. What the hell had happened? Sam seemed to curl into himself under the angel's stare, which was something he only did when he was embarrassed or ashamed of something. Dean felt dread gnawing at his stomach, hoping the reason would not be what he feared it was.

"I'm not exactly sure," Sam admitted, running a hand through his hair, "Raphael came and—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, _what?_" Dean interrupted; eyes moving from one person to the next, "Raphael found you?" he turned to Gabriel, "How? I thought we were still flying below the angel radar."

"Yeah, so did I." Gabriel snapped back, obviously not liking any of this, "They must have followed Cas and I when we came back from scouting." He rubbed his forehead, and stopped Dean from asking any further questions as he turned to look at Sam, "Anyway, that's not the point. How did you stop him? Did Eli—"

"No," Sam shook his head, and Dean followed the conversation between the two in alarm. "Miel told him not to. So she went outside to convince Raphael."

"She _what_?" Gabriel's wings shuddered to a stop, feathers frozen in absolute horror, "Miel faced Raphael? And what? You thought it was a good idea to just let her have a nice little chat with the guy that wants us all dead? What the hell is wrong with you people?" Dean had rarely seen the archangel that mad, but he himself was in shock at the thought of Mel taking that big a risk in their absence.

"Well what was I supposed to do?" Sam snapped back, feeling guilty but obviously not about to let Gabriel blame him, "She's an _angel_, I can't exactly force her to do anything! Elijah tried to convince her, but she told him to build a..._shield_ around the house or something. I went out with her to make sure she'd be okay."

"You—" Dean gaped, his horror now paired with Gabriel's at his brother's recklessness, "You went outside? What the hell, Sam! Are you suicidal?" he turned to Bobby. "And you didn't stop him?"

Bobby glared, "Well he ain't exactly a goofy little kid anymore, I don't know if you've noticed." He growled. Dean rolled his eyes.

Sam turned to him to give some more explanations, but Gabriel interrupted, "Save those for later, bucko. What happened after?"

The younger hunter rubbed his face, "Raphael was going to kill Miel." Both archangel and hunter tensed at this, "The same way he and I—" he stammered, "_Lucifer_ killed Cas."

Dean rubbed his face, "Jesus."

"But then I felt…something." He struggled with his words, trying to find the right way to explain himself, "I don't know, it wasn't like the powers I'd used with the demon blood." He shuddered, "It felt just as dark – colder – but it was…I don't know..._different_."

Gabriel seemed to have calmed down, even though his face was still a grave mask, and his golden eyes studied Sam very closely. "_And_?" he prompted.

"I just…stopped him." He shrugged, clearly not any less confused than they were, "It was like I could drown his power for a second. And then he looked at me and…" he swallowed. And there, right _there_, was the shame and fear Dean had spotted before.

"…Sam?"

Sam looked at him, "…He called me Lucifer."

Dean's eyes widened, frozen in shock for a few moments before he was able to look at the archangel, whose eyes were narrowed in concentration. "That's not possible." He muttered. Dean felt hope at the absolute conviction in Gabriel's voice.

"Are you sure?"

Gabe nodded, golden eyes still fixed on the younger Winchester, who was starting to fidget under his intense stare. "How much do you know about your new powers, Sam?"

Sam lifted a hand to scratch his head, "Uh…not much," he let the hand fall, "I've only used them a few times, but it was always against low-level demons…nothing like angels."

"But for Raphael to confuse you with Lucifer…" Gabriel mused, "You must've been lit up like a Christmas tree, kiddo."

"What? So you mean he's actually half-_angel_ instead of demon?" Dean asked, lip curling up in disbelief.

"Fallen angel, to be exact." A smoky voice in a languid British accent interrupted, and Dean all but jumped out of his skin as they all turned to face the new figure in the room. Crowley leaned against the closed door, his usual smirk on his face as he gazed at them through half lidded eyes. "Boys." he glanced at Dean, "I know. I missed you too."

The hunter closed his mouth, only then realizing he'd been gaping, and covered his embarrassment with a glare. "What the hell are you doing here? And what do you mean _fallen angel_?"

"It's nice to know I'm welcome." He replied in light amusement, he tilted his head to the side in order to see Gabriel, his voice rising slightly as though the archangel was at the other side of the room, "I thought I smelt pigeons."

"Well your stench is not exactly a treat to my nose either." Dean glanced at Gabriel, narrowing his eyes at the lightheartedness of his insult. _Weird_.

"Would you rather I say you smell like cotton candy, angel?" Crowley responded, a spark of genuine amusement in his dark gray eyes, and Dean looked between the two. His eyes met Sam's, who seemed equally weirded out and only shrugged at his silent question. Bobby was watching the demon with an unreadable look in his eyes.

"Alright, not that this isn't fun or anything, but could we get back on track?" he snapped, eyes boring into Crowley's. "What do you know?"

"Oh, I know more than you lot, that's for certain," he arched an eyebrow at the glare still directed at him. "Still friendly as ever, I see." He rolled his eyes, "Alright, let's just say that your…darling Sam," his eyes focused on his brother, "Is a reflection of a fallen angel."

"A _reflection_?"

"Well, he's not a _complete_ fallen angel, otherwise you'd see his membranous wings," he gave him a crooked smile as Dean's eyes widened. How did Crowley know he could see the angels?

"How do you—" he glanced at Gabriel, who shrugged, discouragingly unconcerned, and rolled his eyes as he turned back to the demon, "Never mind. So how do you know this? What he is."

He shrugged. "Takes one to know one."

"You—?" Again he looked at Gabriel, who was proving to be no help whatsoever, "_You_'re a reflection of a fallen angel." He stammered through the term, blinking in confusion.

Crowley rolled his eyes, "Right. I'd forgotten how dense you Winchesters are. _No_, I'm not _just_ a reflection. I'm the real deal," he chuckled darkly, "A pigeon with a broken wing." Then raised his eyebrows, "Get it?"

"But then how come I can't see your..." he pointed over Crowley's head, still not comfortable with sharing the fact that he could see more than what was normal.

"Squint your eyes, darling," he mocked, "Your eyesight's not that good yet."

Dean glared, but did as he was told, focusing on the demon more intently. As he did, he started distinguishing the dark gray essence behind his eyes, like ashes in the wind, and two dark shadows started to solidify behind his back. It became easier to see the wings as soon as he noticed them, but they were not exactly _membranous_, as Crowley had put it. Honestly, they still kind of looked like angel wings, to a point, but his black crow-like feathers were even more burnt than Cas's, and in some parts he could still see the small orange-lit burns, still licking at the skin and feathers. It was then that he noticed the smell, too. "How come you never said anything?"

"What can I say? I like playing the mysterious card," he joked, digging his gloved hands into his dark coat, "Besides, I wasn't under the impression that you were the caring and sharing type. Either way, I've been in charge of the underworld's trading business too long to be considered anything but demonic."

"So you _knew_ I wasn't half-demon?" Sam interrupted, anger at being left out of this for so long obvious in his voice. "And you didn't think of mentioning this?"

"Well, like I said, I don't like giving everything away all at once. It takes the fun out of it." Dark eyes shined challengingly, daring Sam to let out his anger; "Of course there's also the fact that I still don't like you. I don't trust you. And what do you think would happen if I just answered all the questions you have? Oh yes, you'd still try to kill me!" he raised his voice, eyes narrowing in the same dislike Dean had seen directed towards Sam the night they'd captured Brady.

"Wait, but then you're not actually a _demon_. So he shouldn't be able to kill you without an angel knife, right?" Crowley rolled his eyes.

"I really do hate repeating myself, but it seems I'm going to have to put it clearly for you two. _I. am not. an angel_. Not anymore. I'm as much one of those cloud hopping pigeons as your friend Yellow Eyes was." He eyed a half drunk bottle of whiskey nearby with slight disgust.

"Yellow Eyes?" he repeated, looking at Sam, who seemed just as astounded by this. "You're saying Yellow Eyes was a fallen angel?"

Crowley shrugged, "What of it? His name. Azazel." he glanced at Bobby, "You must have read it in the Bible at some point." He glanced at the ceiling, as though trying to remember, "I believe he got in some trouble with daddy dearest after the whole Nephilim business," he shook his head dismissively, "Anyway, that's not important at the moment. Let's get back to business, shall we?"

"Yeah, speaking of unfinished business," Dean folded his arms at his chest, "I think you and Bobby have an unfinished deal to go over."

The demo—fallen ang—_whatever the hell he was_, glanced at Bobby and raised his eyebrows, as though he didn't quite understand what they were talking about.

"Stop playing stupid and give back my soul." Bobby growled, no trace of humor or patience in his face.

Crowley's face was still a mask of obviously fake confusion, "…Give it back?"

Eyes cold, Bobby glared at the demon, somehow managing to stay calm, "Our deal was: we ice Lucifer, you rip up the lease."

"Oh," the demon sighed, looking like he was about to give them some bad news and actually felt bad for it. He turned around, not fast enough to hide the smile on his face, and Dean could clearly hear the amusement in his voice, "You didn't read your contract."

"The hell are you talking about, contract?" Bobby frowned. And just like that, with a snap of his fingers, the hunter's bare forearms were covered in bloodied writing that just couldn't mean anything good. Dean's eyes widened in panic as Bobby winced in pain, and he looked at Gabriel, whose golden eyes were trained on the demon with a thoughtful look. Before he could snap him out of it, Crowley was speaking again.

"Paragraph 18, subsection B, which is," he pointed down at the hunter, "on your naughty bits." Dean scowled, because, come on, _really?_ "I only have to make _best efforts _to give you back your soul."

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning," the demon gave the impression of trying to lift something heavy, voice strained with the '_effort'_, "_I'd like to_," he let it go. Asshole. "But I can't."

"You lying sack of—" Bobby's words were interrupted by Gabriel's laughter, and Dean was pretty sure not even Crowley was expecting that one, seeing as the look he was giving the archangel was anything but friendly, if his narrowed eyes were anything to go by.

Gabe met his dark eyes, mirth shinning in his own golden ones, "What?" he chuckled, "I mean, come on. _Supreme Ruler of Hell_ as you are now…and you _can't_ give one tiny little soul back?" he snorted, raising an eyebrow, "_Please_. You and I both know that's not the reason you're acting like a conniving snake."

Crowley smiled, a small, forced smile that showed nothing but annoyance, "You just couldn't let me half fun with the humans, could you?" Gabriel smirked, and Crowley rolled his eyes, "Do you _realize_ that now I will actually have to stick around these morons? I was in the middle of planning my extended vacation, you know."

Dean could tell that that was exactly what Gabriel had planned, in some twisted messed up way that he didn't quite understand. Turning to the demon, he snarled, "Why won't you do it?"

Dark grey eyes turned to look at him, "Insurance."

"Insurance? You're not pulling that one on us again, so stop screwing around and hand over his soul." And Crowley actually seemed to be losing his patience.

"Do you know how many angels there are in this house?" he snapped, clearly not expecting an answer, "You've got two angels and a newly formed archangel in the living room." He nodded at Gabriel, "Not including that ancient sack of candy with wings standing right there." He went back to glaring at Dean, his voice rising as his annoyance grew, "So, _no_, I'm _not_ going to give back his soul when it's just about the only thing that will keep you animals from trying to kill me, until I'm _100%_ certain that I will not have to see your pretty faces ever again. _Do we all understand each other?_"

The Winchesters grumbled in agreement, not happy with the result but unable to argue his point. Dean glanced at Sam. The older Winchester knew that he would be able to contain himself while dealing with the demon, but he wasn't so sure that his little brother would be so keen. It was hard to stop Sam when he gave into his anger. And Sammy tended to do stupid things when he was angry.

"Alright, fine." He gave in, glancing at Bobby briefly, who nodded back with a frown of his own. "Just remember you won't be able to weasel your way out of this deal."

Crowley raised his eyebrows, glancing at Gabriel briefly, "Or what? You'll set the pigeons on me? How very frightening." He chortled. But even with the mockery, Dean knew the demon would stay true to the deal. Angels were serious business. No matter how young, awkward or childish they may be.

"Don't hate on the feathers, Crow-crow. You only wish yours were as pretty as mine." Gabriel joked. And Dean had to wonder just how long these two had known each other, although he wasn't sure if he really wanted to know. _I mean, come on. Crow-crow?_ He shuddered.

Crowley narrowed his eyes, a small fake smile plastered on his face, before turning to face Dean again, his expression back to its usual amused countenance. Clapping his hands together, he arched his eyebrows, "One big happy family, are we then? Fantastic." Dean rolled his eyes, remembering the last time the demon had used that line. He still wasn't a hundred percent sure about him, but he'd helped them before. And he'd give him one thing; his sources were freaking reliable. They wouldn't have managed to find all the rings without him, not that he would ever admit that. "Well, seeing as my good old friend doesn't own any liquor that's not over six days old, I shall take my leave." He glanced at Sam, mischief shinning in his eyes when he saw the younger hunter tense, "For now."

And with that, he was gone.

As if on queue, the door opened, and Lisa peeked inside with a small smile. "If you guys are done…talking," she nodded to the kitchen, "Lunch is ready."

Feeling his stomach weep for a good hamburger, Dean glanced back to see that Gabriel had already disappeared. If the noises and laughs coming from the kitchen were anything to go by, he, Ben and Eli were already helping themselves to Lisa's mouthwatering burgers (apparently, the trickster and his apprentice had no problem with eating human food). Rushing to the door, he grumbled, "Oh, no, they don't." He gave Lisa a quick peck on the lips as he passed by, her laughter trailing behind him as he ran to the kitchen.

On his way there, he saw that Cas looked a lot better than before, the color returning to his face. Miel smiled as he ran by, and he found himself grinning in return before bursting into the kitchen, ready to fight any Trickster, little angel or ten-year-old that came between him and his well-deserved burger.


	14. Please Stop Me

**A. N.** _Before anyone can start throwing rotten tomatoes at me. I'M SORRY! It's taken me way too long to update this story, and for those who read my other fic When Hell Comes After You I know you're all tired of hearing me blame it on the damn writer's block. But I can only promise that I'm not abandoning either of these stories, and that I will keep posting more chapters as long as you'll have them. _

_Comments and reviews are as always very appreciated; it honestly makes my day to read what you have to say about my stories. I hope the wait was worth it, and I promise not to take so long to update next time!_

**Disclaimer: **_Not mine, not now, not ever. Except for Miel._

* * *

For the following week, Dean kept up his angel blood diet. Gabriel had decided to keep the dosage they'd started with, instead of making it smaller like they'd originally planned. Apparently being Michael's vessel meant Dean had a higher tolerance for their cocktail. And not that Dean could complain, really, he felt stronger than he'd ever felt before, and he'd managed to control his _angelic vision_—or whatever— well enough to turn it off when he didn't want to see the angels' grace or wings all over the place. Because, honestly, having four angels in the same room, feather-dusters and all, it got a bit claustrophobic.

With every new taste of blood, Dean could see their wings much more clearly than before. He could see the feathers perfectly now, and they just looked like they'd be so freaking _soft_, that clenching his fists was all Dean could do not to reach over and _touch _them. Thing he wasn't even sure he could do in the first place, but he hadn't gotten around to asking, because something told him that touching an angel's wings was a pretty big deal.

Glancing away from his coffee, Dean looked at Castiel from the corner of his eye. He looked healthy; the wound that that bastard Adonis (whatever his name was) had given him had healed completely, according to Mel.

It'd be time for his daily dose of blood soon, and Dean couldn't help but worry about the little, nerdy angel. He'd assured Dean that he'd get used to giving away all that power to him, that it was only a matter of time; but it didn't seem like it was getting any easier for Cas. Even if the weakness that came after only lasted for a couple of minutes— as far as Dean could see, because since the day before, he'd noticed a ripple in Cas's grace that wouldn't smooth out until practically an _hour_ after he'd drank. The concern he saw in Mel's eyes from time to time didn't quell his worries either. Nor the way Eli's wings ruffled when it was time for him to drink, like he was angry that Cas had to do this for him.

Sam was still angry with him for drinking the blood in the first place, but he seemed to have understood that nothing he said was going to change Dean's mind, because he'd stopped stalking him down to talk him out of it. Didn't stop him from giving him that constipated, maximum level bitchface of his though. Gabriel found it hilarious.

That was another thing. The archangel had apparently gotten over his anger at him for how he'd treated Cas in the past. He actually seemed to _like _Dean now. Dean himself was starting to appreciate the archangel's sense of humor, especially when the pranks were directed at a certain Sasquatch brother of his. And when Eli joined in on the fun, it was even more entertaining. Kid was damn creative when he wanted to. Even if he seemed to have no preference for anyone in particular when he designed his pranks. Dean had found himself on the receiving end of his fair share of them.

But Dean wasn't the only one getting his daily supernatural fix. Crowley popped in more often than not lately, and he had started training Sammy with his new found nature. At least he didn't need to drink blood of any kind, or Dean might have had to shoot the demon in the face. Call him a hypocrite, Dean could care less. Sam was not getting close to a drop of demon blood for the remainder of his gigantic life.

"Dean." He blinked, coming down from his thoughts to look at Castiel. He knew what the angel was trying to say. With a sigh, he downed the rest of his coffee and stood.

"Okay, okay, I'm up." Castiel nodded and walked to the living room. Looking after him, Dean could see the way his wings tensed behind him, as though readying himself to lose all that energy again. He frowned. Cas's wings hadn't done that the last time. Was he getting weaker?

Following after him, Dean was ready to talk the new archangel into telling him. Because God knew Cas had a tendency to keep things regarding his own health to himself; and even when he _did_ tell him, it was always in a less than accurate way that tended to completely disregard the seriousness of his injuries. Like that time Dean had all but demanded he take him and Sam to the past. He had ignored Castiel's claim that it would weaken him, not imagining that what the angel actually meant was that it could very well _kill him_. He knew better now.

Walking into the living room, he saw Mel sitting next to Cas, that ever present concern shining in her eyes like all the other times they'd done this. Gabriel had his back turned to Dean, standing by Cas, his voice serious. As soon as Dean walked in, the younger angels looked up at him, and Gabriel looked at him over his shoulder before facing Castiel again. With a pat on his brother's shoulder, he offered his hand to Mel. Miel nodded and squeezed Cas's hand before taking her older brother's and standing. She sent a small smile towards Dean and they both left the room in a flutter of wings.

Dean frowned. It wasn't unusual to see the angels talk amongst themselves, but he didn't like the solemn way Gabriel had been talking to Cas, or the look in Miel's eyes when she'd looked at the dark haired angel. Walking up to Cas, he sat next to him.

"What was that about?" he asked. Castiel didn't answer immediately, his eyes fixed on his lap, and Dean knew that to be Castiel-talk for 'I know what it is but I don't want to tell you because I know you won't like it'. He tilted his head, moving into Cas's line of sight, making him turn his head to face him. "Cas?"

Castiel sighed, "Gabriel says we have to increase the dosage. To get you ready to drink his blood."

See?

"_What? Why?_ Isn't what I've been taking enough? I thought I couldn't take too much because of all that overdose crap." He searched Cas's eyes, focusing on the angel's grace. While the angel couldn't lie to him, he hadn't been opposed to hiding things from him if it thought it best for Dean's sake. "Cas."

"That's true. But you're Michael's vessel, and—"

"Yeah, yeah, I can take more juice than usual, I get it." He cut him off. "But what about you? This is hurting you, Cas." He saw the angel open his mouth to protest, but Dean wouldn't have any of it. "And don't you bother denying it, because I can see it, alright? Angelic super-vision, remember?" Castiel pursed his lips in a thin line, and Dean was pretty sure that the angel was wishing Dean couldn't see his real self at the moment.

"Yes, but that is not of import, Dean. You need to get stronger. Raphael is getting more reckless every day, and sooner or later he'll find a way to open the cage. The day we have to meet him in the battlefield is close." Castiel's steel gaze focused on his, and damn it, Dean knew he wouldn't be able to talk the angel out of it. "I'm the only one that has what you need right now. Miel and Elijah are too young, and their rank is not high enough to prepare you for the blood of a real archangel. Mine is."

Dean could feel his resolve faltering; he knew the angel was right, but it just wasn't fair. "Yeah, Cas, I know that, but you can't just—"

"This is necessary, Dean." Dean's shoulders sagged, knowing Castiel would be unmovable.

"Alright…alright, fine." Rubbing his face, he nodded. "Just…" he met the angel's eyes, a fear that he would lose control like the first time he'd tried Cas's blood suddenly taking over him, "Stop me…if I lose it. Don't let me drink more than I have to." His face was serious, but his eyes were begging Castiel to listen. _Promise me. Promise me you won't let me hurt you more than I have to._

Castiel's eyes softened, and Dean could see his wings relaxing slightly. It was then that he realized Cas had been uneasy about the effect it would have on Dean as well; and again he felt like a pretty fucking shitty friend for even agreeing to this in the first place.

At the angel's nod, Dean sighed and waited for Castiel to cut his arm. His stomach clenched as he noticed that the cut was deeper than usual, but he didn't say anything and took the angel's offered arm to his lips.

Glancing at Cas, he could actually _see_ the energy leave the angel, like his light faded slowly to flow inside him, so Dean closed his eyes, refusing to see what his need for strength was doing to his friend.

He wasn't sure when his control started slipping, but he remembered his worry and tension leave him as he crossed the line they'd drawn in the last few days, the new power taking the usual rush of strength to a totally new level. He was vaguely aware of Castiel tensing, but the angel didn't stop him, so he closed off to the outside world and kept drinking, basking in the new feeling of wholeness that flowed through him.

Minutes later, he felt Castiel's arm being pulled away, and a growl vibrated in his chest as he clung it possessively. He thought he heard the muted voice of the angel telling him to stop, but he didn't listen. Intent on securing the source of his energy, he sank his teeth into the flesh that, until recently, had felt too hard to penetrate.

* * *

Sam opened the door to Bobby's house with a sigh. His training with Crowley had been giving pretty good results, despite the demon's constant jives and condescension. But while Sam could feel his power grow stronger, and while his control over it came to him much more easily than the first practice, it didn't stop Crowley from working him to the bone. He needed a shower, and then he was going straight to bed.

Glancing at his watch, he frowned. Well that was a no to getting a beer. Dean was supposed to be getting his daily dose of blood by then, and Sam might have backed off his case, but he didn't plan on seeing his brother sucking Castiel's blood anytime soon. As he walked by the living room, intent on not looking inside, he heard Cas's voice, and the alarm in it made him freeze.

"Dean." A feral growl answered the angel, and Sam refused to believe that the sound had come from his brother. "Dean, stop, that's enough." No response. "_Dean._"

Sam walked back towards the living room, his heart clenching at the thought of Cas not being able to _stop_ Dean. Just a few days before, he'd overheard Eli discussing with Miel that Cas would be too weak to defend himself if Dean lost it, but Miel had shut him up with a warning look as soon as she'd noticed that Sam was within earshot.

He got to the door just in time to hear a pained gasp, and the sight that greeted him was the one he had feared since Dean had told him about the angel blood.

Dean looked like he'd lost his senses, and Castiel was way too pale for comfort, pushing pathetically against his brother. Blood stained the angel's arm, and his brother's mouth and chin were completely covered in it.

Suddenly, Dean moved away from Cas's arm, and for a second Sam thought he was back to normal, but then his hand shot to the angel's neck, tightening around it in what had to be a choking hold. The fact that Cas couldn't defend himself could only mean that he was either too weak to do anything, or that Dean was too strong. What shook Sam to the core however, was that his brother was now pulling the angel towards him, aiming his mouth at Castiel's neck.

"Dean, no!" Without thinking, he sent a pulse of power forward, pulling his brother away from the angel. In his hurry, he used a bit too much strength, and Dean ended up flying into the wall. With a brief look at Dean, Sam made sure that his brother was okay, if only slightly out of it, then focused his attention on Castiel.

Bleary blue eyes looked at him, and Sam kicked himself for not thinking of what all this blood business had been doing to Castiel. "…Sam."

"Yeah," he nodded, helping the angel sit up, "Yeah, it's me, Cas. You're okay."

"Dean?" Castiel's eyes searched for his brother, and Sam felt inexplicably guilty for the way the angel had come to put his brother's safety before his own.

"He's okay, Cas. He's right here." He assured him.

"My, my. You Winchesters just can't do anything without making a huge mess, can you." Crowley's voice came from his right. Looking up, Sam saw him looking down at Castiel, something in the demon's eyes that he couldn't quite name.

"Can you help him?" he asked, still holding Castiel close.

"He's already healing, Moose." Crowley rolled his eyes, "Just give him a few moments and he'll start getting his rosy cheeks back."

Sam glared at him, intent on calling Gabriel next when he felt a hand latch onto his shirt, grip already stronger than it had been minutes ago, if only slightly so.

"He's right, Sam." Castiel's eyes were much clearer when he met them again, their usual intensity coming back to their blue depths.

"Cas?" a terribly hoarse voice came from were Dean had landed, and Sam looked away from the angel to see his brother staggering to his feet. The sight of blood still fresh on and around Dean's mouth made something clench in his stomach. What was worse was the look of absolute horror in his brother's eyes as Sam watched Dean piece everything together.

* * *

As soon as the fog around his mind lifted, Dean felt the pain in his back from having hit the wall. Trying to get on his knees, images of the last minutes rushed back to his mind.

The blood...so addictive, hypnotizing him with its promise of immediate power.

A muted voice calling his name.

A sudden animalistic urge to not let go of the source of all that energy.

To take more.

More.

_More._

Then he'd been pulled away, apparently thrown against a wall. As his thoughts were back in order, Dean felt his heart clench in sudden dread. Staggering up from the floor, he moved his eyes to the sofa just a few feet away from him, fearing what he would find. "Cas?"

The sight of the angel being held up by his brother made something inside him die. Castiel looked too pale, too fragile; too _human_. The fact that he'd been the cause of that so directly when just minutes ago Cas had been a fully powered archangel— that it wasn't even the first time he'd been the cause of that weakness—, it made his chest constrict.

The flutter of wings snapped him out of his reverie, and Dean turned to a stricken Mel and a serious Gabriel, sure that his expression betrayed the horror that was killing him from the inside.

"Castiel!" Mel cried, rushing towards Cas. Before she could get to him however, she was stopped by both of her brothers; Gabriel holding her back by taking hold of her shoulders while Cas raised a hand, his voice much weaker than Dean would have liked.

"Miel, stay back." He ordered.

"_What?_ Castiel, just let me—"

"_Ramiel._" Gabriel's voice resonated with hidden power, and the younger angel stopped struggling in his arms.

Watching from a few feet away, eyes wide as he tried to understand what had happened, what he'd _done_, Dean felt himself tense as deep sapphire eyes turned to look at him. "Cas," he gasped, "I'm—"

"Dean." He flinched, waiting for the accusation that he knew wouldn't come; because the angel was too fucking forgiving for his own good. Castiel's hand, the same he'd used to stop Mel, reached forward, beckoning him closer, and Dean felt himself obeying like a scolded child under the gaze of an always loving parent, walking meekly towards the angel until he was sitting beside him.

The angel's eyes softened slightly, and as much as he wanted to, Dean couldn't find it in himself to look away from his blue eyes. Castiel's hand —smaller than his and lacking in the calluses that separated Dean's lifestyle from Jimmy's— closed around his wrist, guiding his right hand to the open wound on his arm.

It was still bleeding.

And if that didn't say something about just how much he'd drained from the angel, Dean didn't know what did.

Guilt and helplessness took over him, and his left hand joined his right over the cut. He wished that he could just spare his friend of all this pain. That he could take it away.

Closing his eyes, the angel's understanding gaze suddenly becoming too much for him, Dean wished he could just go back and fix this. He felt his frustration at his inability to help boil inside him, nagging at his chest, _burning _him.

A gasp close to him made him frown, and the light touch of someone's hand over his lured him into opening his eyes. His chest suddenly swelled with relief and confusion, and he found himself gaping like an idiot at the sight before him.

A pale white light illuminated his hands, making them feel warm, the kind of warmth that he'd only felt in the safety of his undamaged family; once upon a time, when he was still four years old, still a child. The unexpected memory made him flinch, and he tried to pull his hands back, but Castiel didn't let him, his hand holding onto Dean's with a strength that hadn't been there moments before.

Confused awe taking over his features, Dean looked up into the angel's eyes, and in them he saw the same old smile; the one that lit up his blue eyes and just barely made his lips curl up. Castiel tilted his head slightly, as if to say _'Don't look at me. You're the one doing this. You're the one helping me. This is all you.'_

Castiel lifted his hand from Dean's, and the hunter felt a part of himself pull back into the safety of his chest as the light started fading away. Looking back down at his hands, he pulled them away from Cas's arm, and he couldn't help but to expect the wound to still be there; to magically reappear on the angel's arm, like a big _'Hahah, just kiddin'! Got you good, though!'_ that Dean had come to await whenever anything good happened in his life.

But the wound didn't come back, and Dean stared down at his hands because finally— fucking _finally—_ they'd done something other than suck the life and happiness out of everything around him.

He must have looked like a freaking idiot too, because there was a quiet chuckle next to him that made him look back at his friend. And just the fact that Castiel was right there, _smiling_ (for real this time), and actually _laughing_ at him —the little bastard—, made a wave of relief wash over him, and Dean pulled the angel into a tight (and manly) hug. Because he hadn't fucked up the only friendship he'd managed to keep for just over three years now, and if there were tears in his eyes, Dean couldn't bring himself to care that Sammy was right there and there was no fucking way he'd missed them.

He felt the angel hug him back, and Dean buried his face in the crook of Cas's neck. Because there was nothing he could do to thank the angel for making him feel more useful and accomplished than he'd felt in so many fucking years.

He felt his brother stand from the sofa, and someone cleared their throat. Freeing Cas from his crushing embrace, and giving the angel a brief shaky smile, he turned to look at the other angels in the room, not quite daring to look at his brother, and ignoring the presence of the demon (who Dean just _knew_ was smirking in all his condescending British glory, the pompous bastard).

Miel was giving him the warmest smile he'd ever seen, and once again Dean felt a genuine happiness and pride swarm inside him that he could see reflected clearly in her eyes and grace. He'd have to ask her later about this way of hers to…well, _literally_ share her feelings with everyone else in the room. Because there was no way those feelings could come from himself.

"Well if you're done molesting my brother, I think some training for your lazy human ass is long overdue, don't you?" Dean looked at the mocking archangel, expecting to find anger in his eyes for what he'd done to Castiel, only to find something almost akin to fondness in his eyes. And really, just thinking that the former Trickster and him were actually _bonding_ was pretty fucking weird; but Dean didn't let himself give it much thought before replying with his usual scowl. And if there wasn't any real anger or hatred behind it either, Dean blamed Mel's happy-mojo.

"Training? What, I don't even get to drink a beer after almost giving myself a panic attack?"

Gabriel laughed, "You're hilarious. Really. But what you just did to cure Cassie proves that you're at the level of an angelic nurse." Dean glared at him, Crowley snorted, "And if that's the only thing that this amount of cocktail has added to your new grace, then I quit chocolate." He paused. "For a day." Miel rolled her eyes with a smile before sitting at Cas's other side.

"Wait, wait," Sam interrupted, standing just a couple feet away from the sofa; and Dean got the feeling that he was still waiting for him to go berserk again. "You just said Dean has a _grace_? I mean, I thought this was only supposed to give him powers, not actually turn him into an angel."

Gabriel turned sardonic eyes towards Sam, "Well, that might be because you kinda missed the first class, Gigantor. Now go play with your toys, the grownups have to talk."

With a level 9,000 bitchface, Sam glared at the archangel before practically stomping out of the room. Crowley rolled his eyes at the little outburst only to look around and narrow his eyes, nose wrinkling like he'd just noticed a bad smell.

"Well, seeing as the room is now full of all your clean, white pigeon stench, I'll take my leave as well." In the blink of an eye, the demon was gone, and Dean let himself relax, leaning back on Bobby's old couch. The fact that he wasn't sure if it was Sam's exit that he was relieved for or Crowley's was kind of unsettling.

"Okay," he started, "So do we really have to start training right _now_?"

Gabriel rolled his eyes, "I swear, you humans are all a bunch of whiny babies." A chocolate bar materialized in his hand, which he immediately opened with practiced ease and started munching on, "But, luckily for you, Cassie and I have something to look into, so you can go hide from your over-sized brother and catch on your beauty sleep for a few hours."

"Wait," he frowned, glancing at Castiel, who was already standing from the sofa, rolling his sleeve back down, "You're leaving?_ Already_?" he tried not to sound concerned, but from the amusement in Gabriel's eyes, he'd failed craptastically, "I mean, shouldn't Cas take it easy for a bit?"

"I'm fine, Dean." Came the very expected reply. And while Dean could see that Castiel's grace was perfectly smooth and back to its usual cool blue, he couldn't help but feel wary.

"Right," he looked at Mel, trying to get a more believable answer.

With a small smile, Miel nodded at him, putting a hand on his shoulder, "He really is, Dean. You healed him. He'll be fine."

He sighed, rolling his eyes, "Fine, fine." He turned to look at the archangel, pointing a threatening finger at him, "But if you're not here before tomorrow, you're bringing me some pie."

Miel's laughter immediately made him feel lighter, and Dean's concern evaporated as he met the archangel's golden eyes in a staring match that he knew he wouldn't lose. When it came to pie, no one could stare him down.

* * *

TBC

Next Chapter: Sam confronts Dean about this new blood thirst, and Cas meets with an old friend, guess who! (Hint: Name starts with a _B_ :3 )


	15. Death by Sorrow

**A.N. **_Extra long chapter! I owed you one for the time I've been taking to update. I know the plot is moving kind of slowly, but I hope it's not too slow to keep you interested. More action will come eventually, I promise. Please be sure to let me know what you think! It really helps a lot :3_

**Disclaimer: **_Duh.__ Except for Miel. She's mine ^^_

**P.S.**_ I know OCs can get annoying when given too much of a starring role. Miel's not a protagonist (don't worry), but this chapter puts a bit more light on her character and her relationship with Dean (it's not romantic, seriously).__  
_

* * *

After tossing and turning in bed for a couple hours, Dean finally gave up on trying to sleep. Fact was he just didn't feel sleepy. Tired, yes. Sleepy, not so much. A voice in the back of his head whispered uneasily that the reason probably had something to do with his new angel mojo, or whatever. Still, it was just past noon, so Dean was more than willing to blame it on the hour than on his recent _angelification_ (was that even a word?).

Either way, Cas and Gabe were gone to do who knows what, and he didn't want to worry Mel or Eli over something that could just as well be attributed to indigestion for all he knew. He could hear Eli and Ben making noise outside, probably having been kicked out of the house by Bobby. And really, a yard full of piled up old cars was just paradise for a kid, he smiled to himself. The things him and Sam had been up to when they were younger and their dad dropped them off at Bobby's…those were to stay between his brother and him.

Speaking of his ungodly tall little brother, Dean frowned; Sam was probably waiting for the right moment to ambush him about what had happened earlier that morning. Hopefully he'd gone to sleep, whiny little brat that he was, he'd been complaining about his training being too intense for the past week. But in case he was awake, Dean would just have to be careful and keep an ear out for his brother's gargantuan footsteps.

Opening his door quietly, he glanced both ways before making his way to the kitchen as fast and as silently as he would on a hunt. He could hear Bobby talking to someone in his study, probably Crowley if the annoyance in his voice was anything to go by. That could only mean Sam was either with them or asleep. Yes! Mission accomplished. Now all that was left was getting himself a beer and maybe go outside and work on some cars. It was safer outside.

As he reached the kitchen, he found Lisa making something that smelled suspiciously like pasta. He smiled, his stomach rumbling loudly with hunger at the mouthwatering smell of her cooking. Lisa chuckled quietly, alerted by his stomach or just having developed a sixth sense for when he was around.

"It's not ready yet" she glanced at him over her shoulder, "Probably won't be for another hour."

"And how do you know I'm not here to see you?" he grinned, stepping beside her and kissing her lightly.

She hummed into the kiss, amusement in her eyes as they parted. Their lips were still close as she whispered, "Take your beer and get out."

"So hostile." Dean chuckled, sneaking a last quick kiss before stepping back and towards the fridge. "How're you doing?" He took out a beer, opening the bottle and leaning on the counter beside her. "Not too overwhelmed yet?"

Lisa smiled teasingly, "You looking to get rid of me, Winchester?"

He grinned, "And who would bake me pie then?"

She smacked his shoulder playfully, eyes shinning with quiet laughter. They stayed like that for a long moment before Lisa spoke again, "Sam looks upset," she said, "And you look…" she glanced at him, curious, "Different."

Dean ran a hand through his hair. He'd probably have to explain what was going on at some point, just not yet. "Don't worry about Sam, it's just that time of the month." He saw in her eyes that she wasn't buying it and sighed, "Look, Lis…" he met her eyes, "I can't explain what's going on exactly. Not yet. For now, all I can tell you is that…yes, I'm different. And I'll probably change more in the next few days, but what I need you to know, is that no matter what happens," he reached over to take her hand, seeing that she was starting to get nervous, "I'm gonna make sure you and Ben are safe, okay?"

Her dark eyes searched his, clearly not entirely happy with how little he was telling her. But bless Lisa and her infinite patience with him, she tried her best to smile and closed the distance between them to hug him. "Okay," she nodded quietly and kissed his cheek, "Okay, just…" she pulled back, looking at him in the eye again, "Promise me you'll stay safe too."

Dean smiled for her, bringing out as much honesty as he muster for her, "I'll do my best." Before she could try to make him promise for real, he kissed her lightly, "I'm gonna go outside for a bit, see if Bobby has any cars that need fixing." Lisa sighed with a defeated smile.

"Alright," she went back to tend to the food, "I'll try to keep Sam off your back if he asks."

His eyes softened slightly, his smile smaller yet more honest this time, "Thanks, Lisa."

She waved a hand, dismissing him, "You go do your manly thing with your cars." Her amusement followed him outside, making him feel lighter. He'd meant to talk to her, but hadn't really known what to say. Because too much would be overwhelming for her, and it would only stress her out. But that didn't mean he should keep her completely in the dark. And what Dean loved most about Lisa might have been that she understood why he couldn't tell her everything.

As he walked out in the dry, cold air, he watched his breathing condense in front of him, a brief mist trailing after him. He took one of Bobby's toolboxes and went to find the nearest fixable car (that was as far away from the little winged terrorist and his sidekick as possible; hopefully, they hadn't seen him).

An hour later, Dean had relaxed into the familiar work dynamic that had helped him throughout the last year. Like every time he got too into fixing cars, he was already sweaty and covered in oil, and had discarded his button up shirt on a pile of old car wheels to the side, leaving him in his black t-shirt. Working kept him warm anyway. As he moved from under the car to pull up the hood, he heard the telltale shift of air, the feeling of calm that immediately ran through him giving away who it was.

"You know, it's kinda creepy when you do that." He said, quickly looking over the damage before taking a wrench.

"Do what?" he heard a smile in her voice. She could have read his mind, something that Dean appreciated she had quickly learned not to do.

He looked up, and seeing Miel sitting Indian style on the roof of the car made him smile slightly. She looked a lot younger when she was like this, unlike the motherly role she'd taken since Cas had gotten hurt and things had gotten more complicated. Now her eyes sparkled with childish curiosity, the same that had always looked so out of place in Cas's eyes. That Raphael had tried to discipline out of him and failed.

"That happy-feel-good mojo thing you do," he explained, smirking at the tilt of her head. It really must be a family thing.

"You suck at explaining." She accused, amusement in her eyes. It always surprised him how human she was.

"Yeah, well, you suck at understanding," he shot back, hiding his smile as he worked while she laughed.

"Sorry, sorry, I know what you mean though," Dean looked up at her, unable to hide his curiosity. It was something that he'd been meaning to ask about since he'd met her. How her emotions always seeped through to other people. Or at least to Dean. He hadn't talked about it with Sam. That would only lead to chick-flick moments. And thanks, but no thanks.

Seeing his interest, she smiled. It was one of those smiles that made her look older, more mature. "I can't really help it." She seemed apologetic at this, "Sorry if it bothers you."

"Not really," he shrugged, "I'm just curious. It already happened before I started with the…angel diet thing. So I was guessing it wasn't just me."

She nodded, "Some people feel it more than others. Children, especially." He narrowed his eyes. He was calling her a brat. He just knew it. Seeing his reaction, Miel chuckled, "You're just especially perceptive for this kind of stuff."

Dean rolled his eyes, "Let me guess, because I'm a VIP angel condom."

She laughed louder at that, her happiness making something inside him unclench. There. She'd done it again.

"No, not exactly. It's because of your soul." Way to be cryptic. Freaking angels.

"You're not gonna elaborate on that, are you." She grinned.

"Nope."

"Awesome." He huffed, going back to work, "Okay, so then what's with your mojo?"

"I thought Gabriel told you who I was." she commented, curious. Dean frowned; going over the conversation he'd had with Gabriel about Cas. The archangel had talked of Cas's time as a fledging, and had also talked about Miel's.

"Yeah, he said your full name is Ramiel." Dean looked over the hood, studying her eyes.

"Yep. I don't like it, it's too serious." He chuckled.

"He told me that too." He looked back at the mess of an engine in front of him. The car was pretty much unsalvageable, but what the hell, he had nothing better to do. "So is that why? Because you're the angel of…" he trailed off, trying to remember, "joy and hope?"

Mel sighed, "Yeah, that's pretty much it." There was something in her voice, a wistful tone that told Dean there was more to it. "Comes with my designation, or that's what I've been told. But since we haven't really been on Earth I haven't had to deliver hope to anyone in a while, so I've lost practice on how to control it. I sneaked out a couple times though. But Raphael found out, so I stopped." Dean stopped in his attempt to save the broken car and sighed, pulling the hood down and tossing the wrench into the toolbox. He grabbed his shirt and climbed on the car to sit next to her.

"It's not just happiness though," he noted, voice quiet as they both looked up at the clear winter sky. "It's calm, and sadness and worry…" if Sam could hear him right now, he'd either laugh his head off or look at him with proud puppy eyes for initiating a chick-flick moment. But Mel was a chick. Sort of. So Dean could make an exception. "Since I started drinking…" he didn't say blood, he couldn't say it, "I've been able to see what you guys feel like a lot more easily. But you always feel so much." He looked at her then. She was still looking up to the sky, her eyes slightly saddened. He glanced behind her to see her wings, snow-white and dotted with black, like a winter owl's, they were relaxed, but drooping slightly, heavy. That heaviness seeped through to him. This. This was what worried him.

"And you don't think it's a good thing." It wasn't a question; her voice was quiet, old…wise. Dean saw no use in denying it as she met his eyes.

"What happens when it's too much?" he finally asked. _What happened when Lucifer was cast down? When Gabriel left? When Cas rebelled? When he died?_ Her eyes told him she understood his questions, and she smiled. A small smile a mother gives a child who wants to know more of the world. She turned clear blue eyes to the sky again.

"It's…" she sighed, trying to find a word to describe it, "Overwhelming." Dean could see the way her wings hovered over them, as though subconsciously trying to shield this secret from the rest of the world. He felt the softness of her feathers touch his skin, and couldn't help but sit closer to her, feeling her anguish, even if it was an old emotion she'd long learned to control. At least in this particular subject. "It's why I can't really be a soldier. I'm not good for it." _I'm not good enough_, Dean heard in her voice.

"Bullshit." He said, his voice still low, subconsciously trying to stay quiet. "You're a lot better than most angels I've met." She smiled, her right wing caressing his arm, and leaned against him.

"I'm more _human_ than most angels you've met."

"How's that a bad thing?" he responded, feeling anger at Raphael and the vision of a younger angel being chastised for not being heartless enough.

"It's not." She agreed, but there was still something she was still not telling him.

"So then what's the problem?" Dean asked quietly, unable to push down the protectiveness he felt over Mel. She was like a little sister. And yet she wasn't. So many times Dean had felt like it was his mother watching over him, and he couldn't help but cling to the feelings of warmth that she brought to him when he couldn't sleep.

"I feel too much. Like you said." She leaned her head on his shoulder, her wings coming to drape over their shoulders, now more a blanket than a protective shell. And Dean felt warm, safe. In awe that she put so much trust in him; a human that had caused her family so much pain. He only wished for her to feel as content as he did. "When I…" she sighed, hesitating, "When I'm happy, it's not a problem. When I'm angry, it makes me stronger…" she leaned farther into him, and Dean put an arm around her lower back, under the comfort of her wings. "But when I'm scared…when I'm sad…it makes me weak." Dean pressed his cheek to the top of her head.

They stayed like that, in silence, for once him supporting her and her leaning into him. "When Lucifer was locked in the pit," she started finally, "The feelings were too much…" _Sadness, disappointment, sorrow, anguish_, Dean could read the memory of all those emotions from the flares of her grace, "I got sick." Dean raised his eyebrows, looking down at her in surprise.

"I didn't know angels could get sick."

She laughed. It was a sad and bitter sound. It was so wrong, coming from her. Dean didn't like it. He tightened his hold on her.

"Neither did anyone else." Her wings quivered slightly, "When Lucifer was punished, it was the first time it happened. My grace almost faded then, I felt so weak." Dean was astounded by the amount of love that the thought of Lucifer brought to young angel. She sniffed, and the hunter felt a pang of pain in his chest at the thought of seeing her cry. "Michael kept apologizing," she laughed, a broken, shattered sound, "Raphael looked at me like I was such a disappointment…but Gabriel was always there, looking worried but trying to make me laugh, taking care of Eli because I was too sick to do it. It wasn't really fair. Lucifer's banishment wasn't easy for them either. Castiel tried to help too…in his own way," Dean smiled sadly, picturing an awkward Cas trying to comfort his younger sister. "That's when Gabriel took me in as a messenger. Because with all the fighting that started, he realized I would never be able to take it." She seemed to reproach herself for this. "So he started teaching me about Earth, and humanity, and he took me with him whenever he could." Her grace lifted up at this, and Dean felt warmth in his chest once more. "When Gabriel left…I focused on taking care of Eli. He was so broken up when Gabe left us. It helped, focusing on other stuff. When Castiel left, I thought of following him, but Joshua didn't let me. I couldn't fight, and I still can't. I can't see my brothers die. Joshua told me if it got worse than with Lucifer, it would kill me. I'm useless in a war."

An angel that can't fight at the risk of dying of sadness. If that wasn't the most heartbreaking thing Dean had heard it was up there with the top ten of his list.

Dean cursed Raphael and all the uptight douches of Heaven that had looked down on Mel because of this.

"I think you're pretty awesome." He said, causing the angel to sit up and look at him with wide, teary eyes, full of hesitant hope, "You might not be good at being a robo-soldier, but you're good at taking care of us." He felt her brighten up at the '_us'_, and gave her a small smile. "I mean, you know how awkward it would be if Cas sang me a lullaby when I can't sleep?" She giggled, hiding her face in his shoulder. She was like a little girl again. Fragile and innocent. Even if they both knew that Cas had calmed his nightmares before with his grace, the image of the stoic angel running his hand through Dean's hair and tucking him in at night was nothing short of awkward, if not ridiculously amusing. He grinned. "And just try to imagine Gabe doing that." He felt her anguish dissipate slowly. "Having you here helps. Trust me. Ben loves you, Bobby's having a grandfather complex with you, and I can see Sam struggling not to give you a bear hug when you save him from Eli. Lisa's told me how much she enjoys teaching you _girl stuff_. You make sure Cas and Gabe don't get in too much trouble. You heal them when they're hurt. I don't want to think what the hell we'd do without you, Melly." He admitted, using the archangel's nickname for her.

She sat up, looking at him with such warmth and fondness in her eyes that Dean should have felt self-conscious. But the feeling of safety and the memory of blond hair and clothes that smell like apple pie invaded him with a feeling of security and calm. "Do I help you?" she asked, tilting her head slightly.

Dean had spent many nights sleeping on the sofa, his recent sleeplessness making him get out of the bed he shared with Lisa, so that he didn't wake her. Somehow, Miel always knew to be there when he took his insomnia with him to Bobby's old couch. She would be reading a book, curled up on one end. Just having her there was enough at first, since Dean had felt self-conscious about asking for more help or discussing his lesser need for sleep. But she always knew. At some point, Dean had gotten comfortable with the idea of having her there. And if sleep managed to avoid him still, she would sing quietly to him, sometimes stroking his hair with long, delicate fingers, and he would be transported to another house, to younger, happier times, and would fall asleep almost instantly. She didn't sing _Hey Jude_; she didn't even sing in English. But her voice was just as soothing as her mother's had been, even if he didn't understand the lyrics.

So, yeah. She helped. A lot.

And Dean wanted her to know that.

"If I tell you something, promise me you won't laugh?" he asked, finally. Her eyes brightened with curiosity, but the warmth was still there.

"Of course."

"You uh…" he rubbed the back of his neck, feeling sheepish and shy in a way that he hadn't been since he was much younger. "You remind me of my mom." He confessed.

Her eyes softened, and she put a hand on his cheek. Her touch made him feel like a four-year-old again. How did she do that?

"Does it upset you?"

Strangely, it didn't. He should have been uncomfortable at the thought of an angel reminding him so much of his mother. But he found himself feeling grateful for it.

He smiled like he only did with Miel now. Like he only did with his mom before.

"No." he met her eyes, "It really doesn't."

Dean felt her genuine happiness spread through him, and couldn't help but tease her, bringing an end to the chick-flick. "Happy-mojo. You're doing it again."

Miel stuck out her tongue, "It's your fault."

"Guys, lunch is ready!" Came Lisa's voice from the porch. Ben and Eli's laughter echoed around the yard as they raced to the house. Dean couldn't help but grin at the sight of the little angel running instead of flying arounf.

"Race you to the kitchen?" he asked her. She grinned cheekily and disappeared, "Aw, come on! Cheater!"

Served him right, really.

* * *

Lunch was loud and full of laughter. Mainly the kids' fault. Ben talked excitedly of what he and Eli had been up to, and Miel narrowed her eyes slightly at the younger angel when she was told that he'd practically been throwing Ben up in the air like he was Superman. Eli had the grace to give her a sheepish smile, but looked otherwise completely unashamed. Crowley had disappeared, wrinkling his nose at the thought of having lunch with the two young angels, and Bobby grumbled about too much noise and complained when he wasn't allowed his whiskey, but Dean could see the fondness in his eyes when he looked at Miel and the kids. Yeah, Eli basically counted as a kid. Dean had decided on that long ago.

Sam watched them, amused. Apparently Lisa had made him do some chores, which had only made Dean laugh and make his brother send him an epic bitch face. Gigantor looked ready to jump and attack as soon as lunch was over, so the hunter used the time to treasure what little calm he had left before having another disagreement with Sam.

It was over sooner than he would have liked, Eli zapping Ben upstairs to summon some ice cream behind Lisa's back, and Bobby sending them a look before going back to his study and his alcohol cabinet. Lisa and Miel stayed in the kitchen to clean up, both sending him a reassuring look before kicking them out to the living room. Before Sam started on his rampage, Dean walked out of the house. Lisa would have to leave the kitchen at some point, and Dean didn't want her to have to be flown out by Miel. Also, talking about angel blood in the next room was probably not a good idea.

Once they were outside, he turned to face the tide, bringing up his walls to ready himself for Sam's speech of the week.

"So, you've been bitch-facing me all day. You gonna tell me what's wrong?"

Sam's bitch face grew from _You're such an annoying jerk_ to _I can't believe you're being such a bastard_. This was going to be a long talk.

"What's wrong? You _know_ what's wrong, Dean. Are you seriously going to ignore what happened this morning? You need to stop this angel blood thing now, before it's too late."

"Sam, we've talked about this. There's no other choice, we're going to fight angels and being human just isn't enough."

* * *

"Being _human_?" Sam repeated, horrified at the fact that Dean was willing to change his nature so easily. "So what, you don't even care about what this is doing to you? What you're becoming?"

"I'm not taking that from _you_ of all people. I'm doing what needs to be done." Dean's eyes were cold, "You've got Lucifer's leftovers, so you're set. That's great. But if you think I'm going to sit with my thumbs up my ass and just go out there half cocked, think again." There was a stubborn determination in his brother's eyes, one Sam knew was near impossible to shake. "I'm not gonna be the one that needs protecting. And if turning into an angel is what I need to do to protect my family, then I'll do it."

"And what about Cas?" Sam knew that was a low blow, but he needed Dean to understand what he was doing. This wasn't just affecting his brother. It was affecting their friend too. "I thought he was part of the family, you're not going to protect him too?" Dean went livid, and Sam could see the hurt in his brother's eyes.

"Cas is fine." The confidence in Dean's voice shook, and Sam knew he'd touched at nerve.

"Why, because he told you so?" Sam asked, taking a step closer to Dean, "Dean, you saw what it did to him. You saw how weak he was. What if you drink him dry next time? What then?" he knew he was taking it too far, but Cas was the only chance he had of bringing some sense to his brother.

"I won't! He wouldn't let me. He promised he wouldn't let me."

"He couldn't stop you today, what makes you think he'll be able to do it if you force yourself on him?" he taunted. It pained him to see the hurt in Dean's eyes, the knowledge that Sam was saying this only to make his resolve crumble. It was low. He knew it. But Sam needed to stop this before it got worse.

"I won't let that happen." Dean growled.

Sam laughed, no humor in his voice as he glared at his brother, "You sure about that?" he hated himself for doing this. But it had to be done. "Because when I got there, you were about to bite his neck, Dean."

Dean paled, horror and disbelief obvious in his eyes as he looked at Sam. "You're lying." The fact that Dean didn't remember was enough to convince Sam that angel blood just couldn't be any good.

"You really think I'd lie about something like that, Dean? This isn't just about you anymore. Cas is my friend too, and this is hurting him, and you know it." He watched doubt cloud his brother's eyes and hoped it would be enough to stop this nonsense. Taking a breath, Sam readied himself to deliver his last blow. "You told me with the demon blood that it was turning me into a monster," Dean flinched, "When I saw you Dean…" he hesitated, momentarily lost in the memory of green eyes filled with animalistic bloodlust, "It wasn't even you anymore, Dean. You were so far gone it scared the hell out of me."

Sam watched emotions play out through his brother's eyes, waiting, hoping this would be enough to get through to him, that he wouldn't fail like Dean had when trying to pull him away from Ruby and the demon blood. Emotions raged from doubt, to confusion, to hurt, then darkening into a kind of anger Sam hadn't seen before. When Dean's eyes met his again, Sam felt a pang in his chest at the coldness in them. Something kept Dean's confidence rooted to the angel blood, and it wasn't addiction, because Sam could see that it wasn't. Dean knew perfectly well that this wasn't good, for Cas or himself. But something was helping him back this idea.

"You can call me a hypocrite, Sam. I know I am, and I know it's pissing you off. But drinking angel blood won't lead to the start of the Apocalypse," Sam flinched, "It won't open the Pit and let Lucifer out. If anything it'll help me kill Raphael, and if anyone's taking down that son of a bitch, it's gonna be me." Sam gaped at Dean, a sudden resentment echoing in his brother's voice that he'd never heard directed at the archangel. Dean knew something Sam didn't. Raphael had to have done something that Sam didn't know about to bring out this kind of rage from his brother. Something other than killing Cas or wanting to restart the Apocalypse, "And you can stop worrying about Cas, because I'm not gonna let that happen again." The dark confidence with which he said that made a shiver run up Sam's spine, but it was solid and unshakable to the point that he found himself unable to argue. Still, he had to try.

"Dean—"

"Are we done here?" he frowned, hurt and disappointment clouding his mind, leaving him without an argument. With a sigh, he nodded, watching his brother walk away and get lost in the maze of cars that littered Bobby's yard. Blinking up to the sky, Sam buried his anguish and doubt, knowing he wouldn't be able to get through to Dean anymore, and rubbed his face before walking back to the house. When he reached the porch, he found Miel waiting for him.

She gave him a small sad smile, and he mirrored it with one of his own. They stood there for a long moment, Sam wincing when he heard the sound of glass breaking, far into the cemetery of cars. Dean was venting out his anger in the best way he knew. The most effective.

He felt a warm hand on his arm and looked down at the young angel.

"I know you're worried," Sam snorted quietly, because that was kind of an understanding, "I worry too. It's hard for him to control his thirst when the dosage increases, and it takes too much energy out of Cas. I know it's scary, Sam. But we wouldn't let him do this if we thought it would get your brother or mine killed. What happened today was an accident, and I won't let it happen again. I can promise you that."

Feeling reassured by her warmth, Sam nodded. Glancing down at Miel, he looked at her closely. He couldn't see her wings like Dean could—he'd noticed the way his brother's eyes would go to the angels' backs, and he'd found himself envying him that ability—but he could see the pulsing of her grace and could feel a delicate and warm touch around his shoulders, like a Summer's breeze. Miel had this ability to calm him down with simply her presence, he's seen the way it affected Dean too. He figured it had something to do with her being the angel of joy and hope, but felt grateful for it all the same.

"Thanks, Mel." He finally said, giving her a more sincere smile. She returned it, happy to have been of help and gave his arm a last squeeze before walking out into the mess of cars to find his brother. The warmth she'd wrapped around him stayed with him for a while, and Sam walked inside, calmer than he'd felt in months.

* * *

It was way past dinnertime when Cas and Gabriel finally came back, and everyone else had gone to bed, Lisa with a parting kiss, and the kids tackling him to the ground with a hug and laughter. Damn brats. Sam had received the same treatment (from the kids, not from Lisa), but Bobby had scared them away with a growl and a glare.

By one in the morning, Dean was sprawled all over the sofa watching TV, Miel curled up like a cat by his feet, watching curiously the complicated storyline that was Doctor Sexy M.D.

Papers flew from the table at the angels' appearance, ruffling Dean's hair and immediately alerting him. "What the hell took you so long?" he snapped, hiding the worry he might have felt but would never admit to. A worry that was confirmed when he noticed the small trail of blood that came from Cas's mouth. "Cas, what happened? Are you okay?"

Miel was already by their side, taking Cas's face in her hands, eyes searching his in concern, looking for injuries that were hidden on a plane that Dean couldn't see.

"Raphael found us." Castiel admitted, voice serious as ever, but eyes somewhat lost in thought. Gabriel chanced a look at his brother and took over, letting Miel fuss over him and making him sit down on the couch. Dean followed them with his eyes before turning his attention to the archangel.

"What do you mean he found you? What the hell happened?" he demanded.

"Calm down, bucko. One question at a time." Gabriel's tone was serious, and Dean shut up before he pissed the angel off. "We went to find an old friend of Cas's. We thought he'd died in the war, but apparently the kid decided to be smart and fake his own death to take an indefinite vacation."

Dean frowned. That was kind of a dick thing to do. "Okay, but _why_? Why do you need him?"

"He sort of stole a bunch of Heaven's toys. He's been having some fun selling them out for souls and stuff." Dean raised his eyebrows.

"So an angel's selling souls. Can that even happen?" he turned to Cas, who now had a much less worried Miel leaning on his shoulder.

"It's never happened before." Cas answered, eyes wide with confusion and worry, his black wings twitching restlessly before one of them came to rest around Miel.

"Great. That's great, so now we have an angel running around in the soul market, like Crowley wasn't enough." He rubbed his face. Then what Gabriel had said really sank in and he turned back to the archangel. "Wait, when you say _toys_, you mean...?"

"I mean weapons. We just found a kid that was swinging around a piece of the staff of Moses and partying around with the plagues." While Gabriel's tone was light, his eyes weren't. Whoever this asshole was, he meant business.

"So you're saying your nukes are loose?"

"Basically, yeah."

"Awesome. But what does that have to do with Raphael?"

Gabriel made a face, "Well, while we read the brat's soul to see who'd sold him the stick, we might have said his name out loud." He sighed, "I'm guessing Raphy had someone eaves dropping, because when we went to talk to Balthy, it wasn't long before we were ambushed."

"Balthy?"

"Balthazar." Gabriel replied, making a face, "Kid was always a bit of a handful."

Dean snorted, "Coming from you, that's kind of a scary thought."

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "_Anyway_, we tried to convince him to give us our toys, but he was being a sassy brat."

"Your teasing didn't help matters, Gabriel. You should have let me talk to him instead of insulting his sense of humor." Castiel said from the sofa, earning himself a quiet giggle from Miel and an amused look from Dean as Gabriel huffed petulantly.

"Aw, come on. His jokes are just plain embarrassing to hear, even _you_ could tell that." That made Castiel's lips twitch slightly upward, and Dean felt the looming concern of having Heaven's weapons being sold out to people less threatening.

"But he still helped," Castiel said, "Raphael would have killed me if Balthazar hadn't iodized his vessel." Of course Cas would be so blunt. Stupid nerdy angel.

"He _what_?" Both Dean and Miel chorused.

Gabriel practically facepalmed and Cas looked at them like he couldn't understand why they were upset. "Raphael's loons managed to distract me long enough for him to take Cassy by surprise and give him a piece of his mind. Balthazar came back just in time to turn his vessel into salt. He shouldn't be a problem for a while."

"Turn him into _salt_?" Dean asked, wrinkling his nose, "What the hell?"

"Lot's wife? Sodom and Gomorrah? Got turned into salt for looking back while escaping?" Gabriel tried him, eyebrows raised. Dean blinked at him. The names of the cities rang a bell, he didn't remember the salt part though.

The archangel gave him an annoyed look, "You know, Cas is right, you really need to read the Bible, hot shot." Dean glared at him, then turned to sit on the couch next to Cas, ignoring the amusement of the angels and turning his attention back to the TV.

"Well, if he came back, how come he's not with you?" he snapped.

Silence followed his question, and he turned away from the screen to look around. Miel and Cas seemed a bit uncomfortable, and Gabriel would have looked less suspicious if he started whistling.

"What?"

"Well, he kinda…doesn't like you very much." Gabriel finally answered. Dean frowned.

"What? _Why_? The hell have I done to him? I don't even know him." He protested.

"It's kind of a long story, and I'm tired. I'm kind of having a sugar craving right now. Bye." The archangel left in the blink of an eye, and Dean turned his glare to Castiel.

The angel looked at him briefly, looking oddly uncomfortable for someone who was number one champion at staring matches. It made Dean wonder if he should be concerned. "I have to arrange a search for the other weapons. Good night." And just like that, he was gone. Well at least he was getting better at saying goodbye.

"Freaking angels." He mumbled, sinking farther down on the couch with a scowl.

Miel ruffled his hair, "Awww...You look so cute when you're all pouty." She teased.

It worked. Really, Mel always made him feel like a kid. It wasn't fair.

"I do _not _pout." Dean did not_ whine_. He didn't. He was just reasonably annoyed at her false insinuation in a totally manly and mature way.

Yeah.

Her laughter made his annoyance fade, but he kept the scowl for appearances sake, throwing a pillow at her before turning back to the TV until it finally lulled him to sleep.

If he ended up with his head on her lap after waking up from a nightmare, gasping and shaking, the image of Cas, pale and with his neck a bloody mess branded behind his eyelids, neither of them said anything. She just stroked his hair and sang quietly in ancient languages that he didn't understand, her soft voice and soothing caresses erasing the image of his dying friend from his mind.


	16. Stolen Grace

**A.N.** _Sorry for the delay! I think I'm back on track with this! I got a little nudge from the muse yesterday and I couldn't wait to get back to writing. I'm going to need your opinion for something at the end of this chapter though. Please review and let me know what you think :)_

**Disclaimer: **_I wish._

* * *

Dean landed heavily on his ass, a cloud of dust surrounding him as Gabriel's laughter pulled a glare from him. He was just waiting for his patience to finally run out so he could kill the stupid angel already.

Cocky asshole.

"Gabriel, stop mocking him. You're not helping." Miel chided, trying to hide her own amusement and failing.

"Sorry, sorry," Gabriel wheezed, trying to hold his laughter down. "Aaah, okay. Okay, I'm done, I promise. No more laughing." He let out a last snort before finally schooling his features back to a more serious expression. Which really wasn't doing much for Dean's urge to strangle him. Bastard's eyes still screamed amusement, and that shit-eating grin was firmly in place.

"Friggin' dickwad," he grumbled under his breath as he got back on his feet.

"Aw, come on, Princess," Gabriel teased, "You know I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

"Shut up." He scowled at him, the look on his face pulling out a muffled laugh from Miel, who was trying hard to look supportive.

If Cas were there, Dean wouldn't have to deal with this crap. But the angel was busy flying all over the place trying to find the weapons that Balthazar had stolen and keeping Raphael's goons away from Bobby's house. So Dean was stuck training with Gabriel.

It had been almost a week since Cas and Gabriel had come back with news about Heaven's nukes being out and about, and the house was much quieter than it had been on those last days. Now that Dean was strong enough to start getting some actual training, Gabriel had convinced him that keeping Lisa and Ben around was probably not a good idea. Besides, the kid needed to get back to school.

Eli hadn't been happy to be put on babysitting duty. Not because he didn't like Ben or Lisa but mostly because he knew it also kept him away from the fight. Which, honestly, Dean was sure would put the other three angels more at ease. Mel still checked up on them every couple of days, or whenever Eli's boredom had prompted him to do something along the lines of Gabriel's pranks.

"Alright, alright, no more jokes." The archangel promised, getting back to his fighting stance, "Pick up your sword. Let's start over."

Dean rolled his eyes and leaned down to take his practice angel blade—which, thanks to angel magic and whatnot, looked and weighed the same as the real ones, but would not hurt or maim any angel or human if their sparring got out hand.

Holding the blade like Gabriel had showed him, Dean got ready to face the archangel, who had finally let go of his amusement. "Good. Your poise is getting better. Don't hold it too tight; it'll worsen your aim. Better. Now," Gabriel's eyes got serious. "You need to concentrate, your new speed and strength will be of no use if you can't find the grace inside you."

Dean didn't have an actual grace yet. Miel had explained this to him before he'd started training. For now, all he had was a seed of light at the center of his soul, not quite full-on angel yet, but enough that he should be able to bring it forth at will. The problem was that it drained him pretty quickly, and he couldn't use his new abilities for long before getting tired. Both Mel and Gabe had told him that it would get easier, as long as he kept drinking the angel juice and didn't stop training.

The hunter closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and searching for the cool light that had become so familiar to him since he'd started on the angelic diet. Once he found it, Dean felt it spread through him, his senses far more acute than moments ago as a new awareness entered his mind.

He opened his eyes, and the light of Gabriel's grace and his huge wings were much more visible than before. The archangel nodded approvingly, twirling the blade in his hand, "Good." He raised his sword, "Now come."

Dean lunged forward, his blade connecting with Gabriel's in an echoing clash of metal. Letting his pseudo-grace take over his body, Dean focused on the archangel's moves and the way his grace flickered before every attack.

Suddenly, Gabriel's wings flared open, distracting him long enough to lose control. The light retreated back to the center of his chest, and Dean found himself back on the ground, the tip of the archangel's blade touching his neck.

Panting, Dean closed his eyes and cursed inwardly as the strain of his abilities caught up to him. Gabriel surveyed him carefully, "You got distracted." He accused calmly once Dean eyes met his, "Our wings aren't just there for show, kiddo. They're weapons just as much as our blades are. You need to account for those if you want to keep hold of your grace."

With a nod, Dean licked his dry lips as Gabriel pulled his sword away and offered him a hand. He took it gratefully and let the archangel pull him back up. "Hadn't really thought of that. Makes sense." He admitted. For all his annoying pranks and jokes, Gabriel really _was_ a good teacher. In those moments, Dean would get a chance to see the millennia-old archangel that he'd been working closely with for the past weeks.

"Good." And just like that, the trickster he was more used to was back, and gone was the wise, patient teacher. "So, who wants some chocolate? I do! Come on, Melly let's get us some candy." He grinned as the younger angel approached them.

"Maybe later, Gabriel," she smiled.

"If Gigantor's got you hooked on his rabbit-food diet I will stuff him full of donuts," he pointed a finger at her, narrowing his eyes before deflating, "You need to eat your sweets, kiddo, or you'll stay tiny."

Dean snorted, "Right. Like you're one to talk."

Gabriel rolled his eyes, "_Fine_. Your loss." And with a flutter of wings, he was gone.

Miel chuckled, shaking her head as she offered Dean a cool glass of water.

"Thanks," he breathed before practically downing the glass in two long gulps. As he went to offer the glass back, he realized that it was full again, and Mel was looking away with an innocent expression. "Showoff." he hid his smile behind the glass as he started drinking again, slower this time.

"I'm not sure I know what you mean." She replied, lifting her chin and eying him with raised eyebrows.

"Sure you don't."

Going back to her usual sweet smile, she took the glass back from him and pressed two cool fingers to his forehead. Dean looked down to see that he was clean and not a dirty, sweaty mess like two seconds before. Narrowing his eyes, he looked back at her, "You know, I happen to _like _taking showers."

Miel grinned cheekily at him, "I know," she turned around and started walking back to the house, "But Sam's done with his training and I'm pretty sure he's finished all the hot water by now."

Dean grumbled about Sam's wimpy bitchiness all the way back to the living room before flopping down face first on the couch with a groan. "I'm _sore_."

"_Well_ then, maybe Cassie's less of an innocent cherub than I thought." A British voice that Dean didn't recognize but already hated chortled from the doorway.

Sitting up as quickly as he could, a glare already firmly in place, Dean looked at the angel leaning against the wall of Bobby's old living room. He was tall—taller than Gabriel anyway—, with blond hair and blue eyes. The clothes he wore were, if anything, more of a reason for Dean to dislike him.

This bastard had to be no other than Balthazar.

"Balthazar!" Miel's grasp on the glass faltered, and it shattered to pieces as it fell to the floor. The young angel stared at Balthazar like she might have seen a ghost, and really, considering the asshole had faked his death, Dean couldn't really blame her.

"Hello, darling." He smiled, blue eyes softening as they took on the surprised Mel.

Dean could see relief flood her grace as she flew to her brother and hugged him tightly.

Balthazar seemed to be thrown off balance for a moment before he returned the hug with a laugh, "I missed you too, Melly."

But the tender moment ended abruptly as Mel pulled away and hit Balthazar on the arm.

Hard.

"Right," Balthazar grimaced, "I guess I deserved that."

"You _guess_?" Miel seethed. "We thought you were _dead_, Balthazar!"

"Yeah, yeah," the bastard nodded with fake grief, "I'm sorry about that, you know. But it was the only way I could take a vacation and make sure no one came, you know, _looking _for me?" Miel took two steps back and away from him, as though she'd just been slapped in the face.

Her eyes searched his face with desolated disappointment, "What happened to you? You've changed."

"Yes, Cassie seems to think so too," he agreed nonchalantly—which, as far as Dean could tell (and he didn't even know the guy) was a mask if he ever saw one, but it wasn't like he'd be the one to stop Mel from kicking his ass.

Balthazar's response seemed to spark anger in Miel's otherwise calm countenance, and Dean could feel the air get heavy. "_You—"_

"That's enough, Ramiel." Castiel's voice interrupted, making Dean jump slightly and turn wide eyes at the angel. His friend's dark blue eyes were watching Balthazar with wariness, but Dean could read the sadness and confusion at the older angel's actions shining in his grace like a freaking billboard. The thought made him angry, and as Miel turned upset eyes to Cas, Dean realized that she was also mad on Castiel's behalf.

Something in Castiel's grace must have made her think twice though, since her anger immediately toned down to confusion and hurt. Without another word, Miel flew to stand next to Castiel.

Turning back to glare at the bastard that had ruined a perfectly good day—as far as good days went in his experience—Dean caught a gleam of regret before it was hidden under practiced aloofness. Just what the hell was this idiot playing at?

Dean opened his mouth to let out a few insults and hopefully put a crack on the angel's mask, but Cas beat him to the punch. "What are you doing here, Balthazar?"

The hunter observed the newcomer carefully, there was a gleam of honesty in his eyes now, a seriousness that asked for trust. Well, if he wanted Dean's, he was toast. Not like the grey winged angel had looked at him with anything but carefully hidden contempt. Yeah. Dean was an expert in reading angels now. He was awesome.

"I _was_ going to offer my help. I meant what I said, Castiel. I want to help you." light blue eyes glanced at Dean briefly, "But I didn't think you'd _still_ be willing to kill yourself for the sake of a human again." There was bitter hurt in his grace—which Dean could barely see thanks to Gabriel's Nazi training—, and the hunter had to wonder just what he had done to Balthazar that he resented him so much.

"Look, buddy," he growled, finally getting to his feet to stand between Cas and Balthazar, "I don't know what's got your panties in a twist. But if you want to join our little brigade you're gonna have to drop your freaking attitude." There was no warmth or joke in Balthazar's eyes. Dean knew that he'd never been as respectful as he should have in the presence of angels. But Cas let him be a dick, and Gabriel liked the banter (most of the time). The only reason Balthazar hadn't smitten him yet was standing a few steps behind Dean. And Dean wouldn't be Dean if he didn't try his luck.

Balthazar took a menacing step towards him, wrinkling his nose in distaste hidden behind a roguish smile, "Unlike you, you hairless _ape_, I don't agree to plans that involve sucking the light out of my friends."

Ouch.

Yeah. Dean should probably back down.

Not.

His eyes turned cold as he and the dick got into a staring match, and Balthazar opened his mouth to try and score another hit below the belt.

Again, Cas stopped the fight before it could begin.

"_Enough_."

Balthazar backed off, eyes immediately full of warmth but hiding the sting of betrayal. Dean suddenly realized that Balthazar had wanted Cas to back him up, and felt a painful mix of guilt and pride at having the angel's trust over someone that had probably known him for centuries.

"I don't approve of what you're doing, Cas." Balthazar announced, "But, like I said last time, we're brothers. I want to help _you_." It was clear that helping Cas did not involve helping Dean. Great.

"Dean?" Sam's alarmed voice reached them from the stairs as his brother stormed into the room, hair still wet from the shower. The hunter froze before running into Balthazar's back and stepped away from him, ready to fight.

"Oh, look," Balthazar cheered, looking over his shoulder to glance up at Sam, "The other monkey." He looked Sam over, "Fine specimen." His voice held no interest, and he turned once again to Castiel. "Well?" he asked, waiting for admission. If Dean had any say in it, he'd have told the guy to go screw himself. But he didn't. So he resorted to glaring daggers at him. Something he'd always been good at.

"If you want to help," Cas started, voice tired but careful, "I won't stop you. Just know that fighting with us leaves harming or putting the Winchesters and their family in danger out of the question." His eyes turned hard.

The bitterness was back in the new angel's eyes, and Dean had to wonder if he would have to start watching his back from now on. Balthazar forced out a chuckle, "Fair enough."

Miel put a hand on Castiel's arm, "What about…the weapons?" she quietly inquired, a gleam of hope in her eyes as she watched Balthazar.

"Don't. Ask. _That_." Balthazar rolled his eyes, "I already told your brother. My toys are to stay hidden."

"They're not yours to hide." Miel replied in disbelief.

"They are now." He shrugged. "Anyway," he looked around at both hunters, "Pleasure to meet the both of you," his eyes held warmth as he turned them to the other angels, "See you next time."

Then he was gone.

The room was filled with a tense silence. And Dean wanted it gone. Now.

"Cas?" he asked, looking back to see the angel blink and meet his eyes, "I'm honestly starting to think your brothers are _all_ dicks."

Castiel's lips twitched upwards, and he let out a sigh, "Yes, I can see why you would."

"I resent that." Miel added easily, leaning against Cas's side.

"All except for you, Melly." He assured with a grin.

"Better." She smiled.

Crowley's voice suddenly joined them from the kitchen door, "I do hope your assertion didn't include fallen angels."

"Nah, you get your own insult, Crowley." He replied easily as he walked by him to get a beer.

The demon nodded with a smirk, "Good lad. Let's keep it that way."

* * *

About two weeks went by, and Dean had actually managed to avoid Balthazar as much as possible, and while his luck with his brother hadn't been as good, he'd been mostly successful on that front as well.

But luck can only last so long and apparently Dean hadn't been the only one to notice that, while his power had increased over tenfold since he started training—really, he just needed the wings and he'd be a full-on angel—, Castiel's had been waning by the day.

He'd tried bringing this up every morning before his daily dose of angel juice, but Castiel would wave him off and tell him to focus. And Dean was starting to get the feeling that the purpose of the initial idea of his training had been fulfilled long ago, and that something else was going on. Because Gabriel had to know what this was doing to Castiel, and Dean couldn't get it in his head how this would work to their advantage when they faced Raphael. When Cas had to step up to the plate and not be strong enough to take on the archangel.

Most of all, Dean was starting to doubt Gabriel wanted him to try his blood at all. Because he should be strong enough to leave Cas alone and move to Gabriel by now. Right?

He was searching the empty house for Gabriel's grace when he realized that Balthazar's was there as well. And, judging by the flares of power, he was really pissed.

"Why haven't you given him your blood yet?" Speaking of opportune moments. This was exactly what Dean wanted to know. He should thank Cas for teaching him to cloak himself from angels. "You've seen what it's doing to him. He's back to being at _foot soldier_ level." Dean paled. Shit. "And _him_? That…that sack of _dirt_…He's already stronger than Castiel's ever been. _How?_"

No. That couldn't be right. That didn't make sense.

Gabriel sighed; older and more tired than Dean had ever heard him. "My blood wouldn't work."

_What?_

"What?" Balthazar seethed, "_Why not?_"

"_You know why_." Gabriel snapped back, the air thickening with his annoyance, "Castiel raised him from Hell."

_So?_

"And?" Balthazar asked. Really. It was kind of creepy how they seemed to be thinking the same at the moment.

"_And_ he branded his soul."

Yeah. The handprint. Wasn't that standard 'get out of jail free' receipt?

"No." Balthazar sounded devastated. It wasn't that bad. Was it? "Castiel knows better. He would've never—"

"He didn't have a choice. Dean's soul resisted, but once it tasted his grace it held on for dear life. It wouldn't have let go unless Castiel had infused some of his grace in him."

Son of a—

Balthazar let out a string of curses in what sounded like French, and Gabriel sounded utterly defeated as he concluded.

"Dean's soul won't take light that isn't Castiel's."

_Jesus_.

He had to find Cas. He had to make him take his grace back and get all his mojo restored.

"So make him take it back. He can still do that, he just has to—"

"It won't work."

Dean's blood froze in his veins.

"Dean is Michael's true vessel. His body and soul were designed to absorb power beyond belief. What Dean has taken is not Castiel's anymore. It's been increased to a level that would be too much for him. He can't take it back."

"_You son of a bitch_," Dean growled, forgetting he was supposed to stay hidden for the sake of throwing himself at Gabriel. He gripped the archangel's shirt and snarled in his face, "You _knew_. You knew this would happen and you still—"

Gabriel's eyes were cold even as he let Dean manhandle him. "It was a possibility."

"Then why did you let him do it, damn it!" He roared.

"Because he asked me to." Gabriel countered coolly, and Dean let go of him to stagger backwards.

"…What?"

"Castiel knew this would happen. Better than I did." Gabriel's eyes held a sadness Dean thought would've brought a normal human over the edge ages ago, "He knows your soul better than anyone, Dean. His grace is a small price to pay to grant you the strength to protect yourself and your family. To protect your world. At least that's what he thinks."

_Cas, you stupid son of a bitch._

"Does Mel know?" Gabriel hesitated, "_Does she?_" he demanded, stepping closer to the archangel again.

"No."

Dean felt sorrow and relief flood his—now he knew for certain—grace. Sorrow for what it would do to her when she found out. Relief because she hadn't betrayed him.

"I'm not taking it again," he snarled, "You hear me? I'm not taking another drop!"

Balthazar snorted behind him, and Dean shot him a glare that made the angel's wings tense.

"Where are you hiding the weapons, you freaking bastard?" he could almost feel the air charge with electricity around him. He couldn't have cared less at the moment. "If you'd stop being a fucking brat and gave them to Cas he wouldn't need to do this anymore, goddamnit! You better hand them over right now!"

Balthazar's eyes shined with accusation and bitterness as he huffed a laugh. "I'm sorry. You're confusing me with the _other_ angel? The one in the dirty trench coat who's in love with you?"

Before Dean could snap back, Gabriel's voice—the real one seeping through—shook the pillars of the old house, _"Balthazar!"_

The angel's eyes widened before he bowed his head and took off, terrified of the archangel's fury.

Dean could only feel the stolen grace inside his chest weep at the reality that had just been revealed to him. A reality that just explained so fucking much...Wide green eyes turned to search molten gold in the hopes of finding denial, only to see a grief so deep it threatened to drown him.

_Damn it, Cas..._

* * *

_OKAY. Here's the deal. Everything is up to you guys now, because I don't mind either way and I already know how this ends anyway. SO. Slash? Or no slash? That is the question._

_Slash does not mean I will kill Lisa off or that they will end anything on bad terms. I can promise you that. And no slash doesn't mean there won't be emotional moments between our nerdy angel and our beloved hunter._

_Yes, I know I already revealed that Cas's love for Dean goes above the definition of brotherly affection. Doesn't mean Dean is or has to be in love with him. The tragedy of Castiel's feelings is that he doesn't hope for or expect reciprocation (at least in this fic). And I actually do think this to be true on the show as well. Cas is an angel. His love is above physicality and doesn't need the human connotations of a relationship to be happy._

_So. Like I said. You decide. This is a democracy. Although if you could give me a reason why you want slash or not it would help me make a decision more easily._

THANK YOU_  
_


	17. Guardian of Mine

**A.N. **_GASP! What's this? I'm actually updating after a week! Hell's frozen over, grab the salt and holy water people! I couldn't not get a kick from the muse with all the reviews I got from last chapter, so thank you all for the comments. As it was discussed last chapter, I gave the option of turning this into a slash fic, but since most of the answers wanted to keep it the way it started, I'll keep to what I had :)_

**A.N.2. **_Warnings, emotional conversation ahead. Dean and Cas discuss the reasons for our angel's self-sacrifice. I repeat, this isn't slash anymore people (of course if you want to see it that way feel free to do so), this is just an intensely chick-flicky moment. Hope you like it!_

**Disclaimer: **_Not mine.__  
_

* * *

Dean didn't sleep.

He hadn't slept in days. Apparently that came along with having a grace.

His grace.

Not Castiel's grace. It was Dean's. And Cas would never be able to take it back.

He'd been literally sucking the light out of his best friend for almost over a month now and he hadn't even realized. What the fuck kind of friend did that make him? A shitty one. That's what. If he could be called a friend at all.

After finding out from Gabriel and Balthazar just what he'd done to Cas, along with the reason why the angel doesn't seem to mind that he's on the fast line to falling again for him, Dean had gone to confront Cas.

* * *

_He and Miel were sitting outside. Or rather, Cas was leaning on the hood of a car while Mel ranted about whatever crazy prank Eli had done last. She paced in front of him, waving her hands frantically in her recounting of the events. That wasn't what made Dean pause, however._

_Cas was smiling. Honest to God _smiling_ while Mel over-exaggerated what she'd just seen at Lisa's house. _

_It was the first time in a long time that Dean had seen Cas so…relaxed. He wasn't in his straight-backed soldier stand. He just watched Miel—who Dean knew was just doing her best to ease her older brother's exhaustion—perfectly imitate Eli's voice and what sounded like a hysterical Lisa demanding she do something about the little angel._

_Then she stopped. She stood in front of him and said something that Dean could tell was not English. And whatever last whine in Enochian she uttered at him did something Dean had never seen in all the years he'd known Cas._

_He laughed._

_And not the desperate, hysterical laugh Dean had heard on his visit to 2014. This was…genuine. _

_Castiel's shoulders shook with mirth, his eyes closed as he placed a hand on his stomach and leaned forward to try and stifle his laughter. The nerdy angel was practically pissing his pants. _

_The hell?_

_Then, as if Dean hadn't seen enough of this brotherly side of Cas he'd never before been exposed to, he opened his arms, finally managing to tone his laughter down to quiet chuckles as Miel pouted and accepted his offer for a hug._

_Who the hell_ was_ this guy?_

_He saw Castiel rub Miel's back soothingly and whisper something in Enochian in her ear. The young angel let out a laugh of her own and buried her face in his trench coat._

_For reasons he wasn't sure he could explain, Dean cloaked his presence in favor of getting closer. He watched Miel pull back to look up at Castiel, her worry perfectly visible in her grace even from were Dean was standing. Castiel's smile was back to the one Dean was more used to seeing, barely there but shinning deeply in the fondness of his eyes._

_She asked something in Enochian and cupped his face in her hands. Cas heaved a small sigh and gave a quiet reply in turn. Dean could imagine what they were talking about, and from the look in Castiel's eyes, he could tell the angel was reassuring his sister that he was perfectly fine._

_Mel was not easily convinced, and her hands started falling from his face, only to be caught in Castiel's. His friend leaned down to press his forehead to hers, a gesture Dean remembered Jimmy do with his daughter when saying goodbye._

_Unable to bear the thought of this connection, Dean turned around and stormed back into the house, hoping to find a drink strong enough to actually make him feel at least tipsy._

_He wasn't lucky._

* * *

Dean rolled around in bed for a few more minutes before finally giving up. He sat up with a groan of annoyance and ripped the blankets away from him before getting up and quietly pad down the stairs.

He stood outside, not registering the cold wind—that was another thing about having a grace, he guessed—as he stared up at the moon.

His fists clenched at his side at the thought that Cas might not be able to just…fly to the North Pole without having to worry about a coat anymore had Dean not realized what this whole bloodsucking business had been doing to him.

"You can't sleep." A quiet, gravelly voice commented behind him. He really should have guessed Cas would choose that moment to give him company.

"Nope." He replied, not trusting himself enough to look at his friend.

"And I assume you don't feel cold either," Castiel continued, stepping up to stand beside him.

"Nah," he forced a grin, "I don't get hungry either," he added, "But I don't get full if I eat, so I guess that's somethin'."

"...Dean."

It was really annoying, how Cas knew when guilt was burning him inside out. Bastard just _knew_. He always knew.

With a sigh, he turned his eyes from the stars to look down at his bare feet, "What, Cas?"

"Why are you blaming yourself?" Cas's voice was genuinely curious, like he couldn't fathom what reason Dean could possibly have to feel guilty about anything.

He huffed out a humorless chuckle. Stupid angel. Stupid, innocent, too self-sacrificing for his own good angel. Dean felt anger burn his throat, but he swallowed it and forced himself to ask, "Were you ever gonna tell me?" He looked up at his friend.

Castiel's eyes narrowed in confusion, the telltale head tilt accompanying his frown, "Tell you…what?"

And Dean could see he really didn't know what he was asking. That was the kicker. Besides the fact that Cas couldn't lie to save his life, the blue hue of grace in his eyes was honest, and his black-blue wings fluttered slightly in puzzlement.

"You're a freaking idiot, you know that?" Dean couldn't help but smile helplessly at Castiel's stupid innocence.

Castiel's eyes widened slightly, and he looked away from Dean for a moment, as though trying to think of what he could have done that might have warranted Dean's insult. Not worried. Or offended. Just genuinely curious to understand.

Dean watched him with a pained smile, unable to stop the fondness he could feel spread through him. Finally, the angel looked back at him and tilted his head once more, "Why?"

With another tired sigh, Dean rubbed his face and looked up to the sky, "Because."

Even without looking, Dean knew Castiel was once again frowning to himself, trying to solve the mystery that was his complicated charge.

"You shouldn't have let me take your grace like that." He finally uttered.

Castiel froze beside him, and Dean looked at him to see surprise, shame and fear battle behind his eyes. The angel looked down, "You weren't supposed to find out."

Always so honest.

Stupid angel.

"And just what would you have said when you ran out of juice?" Castiel didn't answer, "Damn it, Cas! What, you thought I wouldn't go with it if I knew?"

Cas's voice was quiet, "I knew you wouldn't." Blue eyes looked up to meet green, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Dean. But this was necessary."

"_Necessary?_ Necessary for _what_?" He demanded, his voice rising with his frustration, "How were you planning on fighting then, Cas? Did you think you'd just stroll into battle without your mojo?"

"Yes."

Stupid, _stupid_ angel.

"Why?" He finally roared, facing Castiel completely, "You already fell once, Cas! You got your power back! And now you're just gonna give it all away? _For what?"_

"For you." He said, honest and simple. Of course. Why else?

"_Why?_" Dean raged, gripping the lapels of the stupid, dirty trench coat, "I didn't ask you to, damn it! You've—" he swallowed, eyes searching desperately for an answer in the blue of Castiel's grace, "You've given _enough,_ Cas."

"I've given as much as I wanted to give, Dean." He replied calmly, the fondness obvious in his eyes and his small smile, "You haven't taken anything from me." _That freaking, stupid smile of his_. "You're stronger than me now. You can protect Sam. You can protect your family...Earth."

"And what about you, huh?" Dean's voice shook, but he couldn't bring himself to care, "What, you just—you just drain yourself dry so we can live happily ever after? That it?"

"Yes."

"No! _No, _goddamnit! That's not how it works, you poor stupid son of a bitch!" He could tell from the look Cas gave him that he remembered the last time Dean had called him that. It was almost ironic. Back then, he'd been trying to tell Cas that joining him and saving the Earth was worth dying for. Now here he was, struggling to convince the angel otherwise.

Castiel stayed quiet, and Dean shook him angrily; desperately.

"What about you? _Huh_?" He repeated, "What do you think you are to me, Cas?" the angel looked away, "Look at me!" Cas's sad eyes met his again, "You're family too, man! Hell, you're…" he swallowed thickly, "You're my best friend, Cas." He was practically begging now. Cas needed to stop this Winchester, self-sacrificing bullshit. And he needed to stop it _now_. "You can't keep doing this." He could tell Castiel wasn't buying it, and Dean cursed the angel for ever thinking he deserved his undying loyalty. "It's just like gettin' yourself blown up all over again! Like carving that stupid sigil in your chest, and that…that_ idiotic_ idea to Molotov an archangel—" Dean knew he was being ridiculous; he was rambling, his guilt coming out in spurts of desperation for his angel's life, "You can't die again, Cas, you can't just _leave_ again."

The angel looked at him for a long moment, and Dean found that he couldn't get any words out without risking outright crying his eyes out. And that sure as hell wasn't happening. Moment was chick-flick enough as it was.

"I'm not…dying, Dean. I'm not going anywhere." Cas's voice was quiet, soothing; like Dean was a small, scared child. His charge. That stupid not-smile lit up his blue eyes again, and Dean felt like crying because he got it, damn it. He understood. What Cas really felt for him; above the love of a friend or a brother, maybe even a lover but not unlike the love of a parent, a _guardian_. It was a love that went beyond human boundaries or comprehension. A love he would never completely understand. Cas was _his_ angel; his keeper. And Dean was his charge; his to love, his to protect.

Dean let out a shuddering breath, his forehead coming down to rest on the angel's shoulder. Castiel remained firm; his pillar; shouldering his weight. "You're an idiot." He mumbled again, feeling so exhausted that he might actually fall asleep for a change.

"I know." He could hear the smile in Castiel's voice. The soft touch of feathers on his arms and neck offered him a feeling of safety, of shelter, like he'd never felt before.

"I'm not drinking again." Because _that _he could be sure he wouldn't do. Not ever. Not again.

"I know." His voice was quieter this time, warm, like a parent humoring a stubborn child's irrational claims of the monster in the closet. What was it with angels and making him feel like a kid? It was getting annoying.

"You ever tell anyone about this and I'll kill you." He grumbled with halfhearted grouchiness.

Castiel's shoulder shook with a light, quiet chuckle; barely there, barely noticeable, but filling Dean's new grace with warmth all the same.

Secure and protected by Cas's wings, Dean allowed himself to put his arms around the angel, tightening his hold on him.

"I mean it." He threatened again, voice quiet and tired.

Dean could feel the angel's breath on his neck, his voice just above whisper as he answered yet again.

"I know."

* * *

"Have you been drinking?" Dean rolled his eyes and kept working on the old engine he'd been trying to salvage for the past hour.

"If you want more booze, go buy some, Sammy." He could practically feel Sam's bitchface directed at the back of his head.

"That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"Nope, I'm not sure I do." Being intentionally difficult was fun.

With a frustrated sigh, Sam came to stand next to him, "I mean the blood, Dean." The older Winchester closed his eyes, took a long breath and turned to face his brother.

"Why do you ask, Sam?" his green eyes watched him carefully, and Sam backed away slightly, almost sheepishly.

"Cas looks better," he commented, looking briefly at the ground, "His…his grace is more stable."

Dean raised his eyebrows, "You can see grace already? That's a good job, Sammy." He went to turn back to the car again, only for Sam to close in on him.

"Why aren't you drinking, Dean?" Dean didn't answer. "Did something happen to you? I mean…are you _okay_?"

"I'm fine." He growled under his breath.

A pause.

"So is it Cas then? I could feel how weakened he was."

Growing frustrated, Dean turned around and tossed the wrench in his hand into the toolbox by the old car, "What do you want, Sam?" His little brother stood still under his glare, unrelenting.

"I want to know what's changed." There went that puppy eyes/bitchface combo again. Damn kid. "About a month ago you were pretty damn sure that this was the way to go." Dean didn't answer, so Sam took it as his cue to continue, "I mean, Dean…if something's happened I need to—"

"It was hurting, Cas, okay?" he finally snapped, "And don't even think of laying an I-told-you-so on me." He grouched as he slammed the hood of the beat-up car shut.

Sam stayed quiet for a minute before tentatively talking again, "But…it wasn't like it did him any good at first either? Was it that bad?" he asked, genuinely worried that Cas might have been hurting himself more than he'd let on.

Heaving a sigh, Dean sat on the hood and rubbed his face, "Yeah." He glared up at the sun, "Yeah…turns out I've been sucking out his grace and because I'm Michael's angel condom or whatever…he can't get it back again."

"What?" Sam sputtered, "_Why?_"

"I don't know, Sam." Dean's voice was deep as he looked down at his feet, "I found out a few days ago. Turns out what I drink transforms into a lot more energy than what Cas was giving me. And since I can't split it, or whatever, giving it back to him would only hurt him more."

"Like…" Sam prompted, trying to get an idea of what they were talking about.

Dean looked up and answered with cold, half-hooded eyes, "Like if he tries to take it in, he'll explode."

"…Oh." Sam whispered, looking down in horrified awe.

"Yeah." Dean snapped, "Oh."

They stayed in silence for another long minute before Sam got to balls to finally sit next to him. "So, what are you gonna do?"

"Keep training." Dean answered, too tired to even be angry anymore, "I'm already stronger than he was before I started drinking," he glared at his hands, "Or so they tell me."

"Did Cas know?" Sam's voice was quiet, like Dean might jump at him for bringing this up.

"Yeah," Dean's voice came out in a breath, wanting it to be a laugh but not quite getting it, "Yeah, he knows." Pause. "It was his idea."

"Huh." Sam didn't say anything for a long minute, but when he spoke again his voice had that cautious tone to it, "Can't say I'm too surprised."

Dean glared at him from the corner of his eyes, "Really. How come?"

"I mean, Dean," Sam almost smiled, even if he felt far from happy at the moment, "Cas and I may be friends…and he may have raised me from Hell too but," he shook his head, "It's different with you. Even before he fell it was already clear you were special to him." As though he felt he was being unfair, Sam retaliated, "I mean, don't get me wrong, I'd die for him, I would…and I'm pretty sure he'd do the same for me but," he looked at Dean sheepishly, "I don't have the brand on my shoulder. He's not _my _angel, you know?"

Dean looked at Sam for a long moment, noticing it was making his brother uncomfortable before looking away with a huff and a small grin, "Yeah…" he ran a hand through his short hair, "Yeah, I guess."

He could tell by the way Sam suddenly straightened up that his easy acceptance of his argument had taken him by surprise, and he suppressed a smile before standing and clapping his little brother on the back. Hard. "Alright, Samantha. Chick-flick's over. Let's grab a beer."

Sam rolled his eyes, hiding his own smile before following him back inside the house.

* * *

With all the time they'd had without Raphael knocking on their door, Dean should have known that the shit would hit the fan sooner rather than later.

The news hit them all sort of unawares; he and Sam were having breakfast more or less quietly in the kitchen, since their 'teachers' had given them a 'day off' from the training while they attended to other, more important, 'grown-up' matters.

"Pass the coffee, will ya?" Dean mumbled, stuffing his face with scrambled eggs and bacon. Sam grunted something in response and pushed the coffee pot towards him, eyes glued to the newspaper in front of him.

A long moment of comfortable silence followed, only to be ended abruptly by a loud crash coming from the living room.

Both brothers jumped to their feet in alarm and rushed out of the kitchen, hearing Bobby's heavy steps coming up from the panic room. "What the—"

Balthazar scrambled to his feet, staggering away from where he'd landed to get closer to the boys. His grace was mangled, and his wings were tense and fluttering nervously, "Oh, good, you're here," he said, more to himself than anything, "I think we may have a problem." He informed them, struggling to keep his laughing façade on.

"What? Did something happen? Is it Raphael?" Dean demanded, hands already reaching for the angel, whose balance seemed to be off despite how much he tried to hide it.

"Not exactly," he grunted, his knees finally giving out; he'd have fallen face first if Dean hadn't been ready to hold him up

"Whoa, you okay?" he asked on reflex. He didn't like the guy, didn't mean he'd get a kick out of seeing him hurt.

"How sweet of you to worry, little monkey," he wheezed, amusement in his voice as he stepped away from him, regaining his stand, "I had a bit of a run in with one of Raphy's henchmen," he informed them, his voice turning more serious, "Virgil never did have a great sense of humor…" he mused. Shaking the thought out of his head, he turned back to look at them, "Anyway, I'd have my guns and knives out if I were you."

"He _followed_ you here?" Sam asked indignantly, earning himself a sardonic look from the angel.

"No, I just thought I'd invite him over, you know," he lifted the lapel of his jacket to show the fresh blood on his side, "For old times' sake and all that."

Dean snorted, quickly heading to the other side of the room for the angel blade Gabriel had left him in case of an attack. A rush of wings immediately made him tense, however, and he turned just in time to see a dark coated angel lunge at him. Instincts taking over, Dean held on to the angel's arms to keep the bastard from stabbing him as he was slammed against the wall.

"Dean!" Sam yelled in alarm.

"You keep some—" he grunted, struggling to keep the angel blade away from his chest, "interesting company, Balthazar!"

Balthazar leaned heavily against Bobby's desk, unable to be of much help but perfectly capable of getting involved in verbal banter apparently, "Keeps things interesting."

"Boys, what the hell is goin' on!" Bobby rushed into the living room with barely enough time to react before a jerk from Virgil's head sent the old hunter flying backwards.

"Sam!" Dean yelled, having trouble concentrating his grace on anything other than keeping the asshat's knife from his chest. Fucking angel-super-strength, "Now would be a good time to show off, dude!"

He chanced a brief look to his side to see his brother raise a hand towards the angel and Virgil suddenly froze. Not waiting for him to overpower Sam, Dean stretched an arm out and willed his angel blade to him. Once in his hand, he wasted no time shoving it into Virgil's chest and pushing him down to the floor.

White light exploded inside the house, and Dean allowed himself to look at an angel's death for the first time. Grace pushed out from the deceased vessel, his dark wings spreading wide open as the life burned out of him, incinerating the feathers, bones and muscle away and leaving nothing but an empty vessel and the charcoal remnants of wings.

The sound of Balthazar sliding down to the floor broke the silent spell that had fallen over the room, and Dean looked from the dead angel to the one he could say he pretty much hated and addressed Sam firmly, "Go check on Bobby," Sam nodded and rushed to the old hunter while Dean kneeled down by Balthazar. "Alright, asshole, stay still."

Balthazar huffed out an indignant breath, but he stayed put as Dean spread his hands over the wound and closed his eyes. Healing always came harder to him for some reason. Gabriel had said that it was probably because Michael had always been more of a warrior than a healer, and Dean couldn't honestly say he could picture the archangel worrying to heal anyone's wounds but his own.

As soon as Balthazar's grace stabilized, he looked down to see the wound had closed and let himself fall back on his ass to catch his breath. He actually wasn't all that tired, he could use his grace for a much longer period of time than he'd used to. Although he had the uneasy feeling that using to much would drain it from him and make him human again. And, while that wasn't all that bad, considering he wasn't really interested in becoming an angel permanently, he didn't want to have to steal more of Cas's grace because he'd been reckless and used up too much power.

He glanced back at Balthazar to see him looking at him with a strange expression, and Dean rolled his eyes before pushing himself back to his feet, "You're welcome." He snapped, turning away from him.

"Hey, Bobby, you all right?" he called.

"Yeah," Bobby grumbled as Sam helped him up, "Could use a drink though."

Dean nodded. Yup, Bobby was fine.

"Alright, Balthazar," he faced the angel, who was already standing up and looking cocky as usual, "What the hell was that about?"

Balthazar's mouth twitched slightly, like he wanted to grin dismissively but knew this was too serious for jokes. With a sigh, he leaned on the desk and folded his arms over his chest, "Raphael's ready for action. He'll try to open the cage tomorrow."

"_What?_" Sam gasped from behind him, "Already? I thought—"

"You thought he'd give us a nice, long sabbatical to get ready to stop him?" Balthazar mocked, "Right, of course, I forgot how considerate he is."

Dean exchanged a look with Sam before glaring back at the angel, "Have you told Cas yet?"

Deflating once again, Balthazar's grin melted to nothing, "Not yet. I've been keeping tabs on Raphy and his troops for a few weeks. Virgil caught me snooping around just as I overheard Raphael's little announcement."

Dean nodded gravely, "Did Raphael see you?" he didn't know why the angel was suddenly being so straightforward with him, and Balthazar's grace shined with slight confusion at the easy answers he was offering. Maybe being Michael's vessel had some advantages after all.

"I can't be sure. But it doesn't really matter," he shrugged, his eyes betraying his concern, "He'll still be at the cemetery tomorrow night."

"The cemetery?" Sam asked, "Stull Cemetery?"

"It's the last location of the cage's opening, so it makes sense he would try there." Balthazar offered, not even bothering to add his usual sarcastic bite.

"Alright," Dean clenched his jaw, thinking for a moment before turning to Sam, "You call Crowley, I'll get the angel trio over here."

"Right," Sam nodded, heading off to do whatever he needed to do to get the demon's ass back to the house.

Looking back at Balthazar, his voice was serious as he asked, "Are you staying?"

Balthazar raised his eyebrows, genuinely lost, "Pardon?"

"Are you fighting with us or not?" he glared, his voice firm.

The angel eyed him for a long moment, measuring him with eyes of a warrior that had seen battle too many times to count. Looking down, his shoulders shook with a chuckle before meeting Dean's eyes once again, "You know, you may be certifiable but…" he sighed, "Fine. In for a penny, in for a pound."

Dean grinned, nodding gratefully.

"You're serious?" Sam asked curiously, walking back into the room, "I mean, I thought you didn't want anything to do with this."

Balthazar rolled his eyes, looking heavenward, and Dean's grin widened at the fact that the angel would have to repeat himself, "I know I'm going to live to regret this but," he mumbled before looking at Sam, "I'm officially..." he paused briefly, like he couldn't bring himself to say it, "On your team."

Dean couldn't help but snort, and he just knew that Sam was hiding a grin somewhere behind him. Balthazar glanced between the two of them before narrowing his eyes in resignation, "You bastards."

* * *

_Next chapter: The battle begins! _


	18. Echoes of the Archangels

"You know, I'm starting to miss my days with our pagan cousins right about now," Gabriel all but whined. Melodramatic bastard.

"Well most of them are either dead or hiding their asses right about now, so stop whining and focus." Of course Gabriel wouldn't just let it go.

"Exactly! Hiding! Which is what we should all be doing _right about now_."

"No one's stopping you if you wanna leave, Gabriel." Sam's voice sounded equal amounts of bored and annoyed as he leafed through a book while they waited for Crowley to make an appearance.

Gabriel's feathers puffed like an angry bird's at Sam's comment, and Dean would have found it funny if he wasn't pissed about Crowley taking his sweet ass time getting back to them, "And leave my family to you? HA! I might as well kiss my cute, little siblings goodbye if they're stuck with you two as back up."

"There. So stop complaining already." Sam replied without looking up from his reading.

Before Gabriel could keep the banter going, Dean rolled his eyes and rubbed his face, "Any word from your little demon master?"

Sam looked up long enough to send a bitchface his way before focusing back on his stupid book, "Not yet. He said he wanted to check something before coming here."

Dean grumbled under his breath, folding his arms on his chest and absolutely_ not_ behaving like a petulant child. Castiel sat quietly beside him, Miel on his other side, leaning her head on the angel's shoulder. Balthazar was somewhere in the kitchen, arguing with Bobby about the biblical reasoning behind his argument that blood of lamb is way better than blood of doe.

Or something.

"Well, isn't this…a sweet family reunion," Crowley's remark was less biting than usual, and Dean's eyes shot up to see him double over coughing. Before he and Sam could get on his feet, Gabriel was already beside him, Cas and Miel standing not too far from them.

"Easy, Crow," he soothed, rubbing the demon's back in a way that suggested those two really did know each other from way before. Which was kind of weird. But, considering what Gabe had been up to for the last few centuries, it wasn't too big a surprise. "What happened? Your wings are more charred than usual." Despite the joke, there was no humor in Gabriel's eyes, and Dean frowned on noticing that Crowley's burnt wings really did look (and smell) worse than usual.

"Had a little encounter with your darling brother," he wheezed, pausing and tilting his head before correcting himself, "Sister now, I guess."

Dean blinked.

Huh.

"Anyway," Crowley breathed, standing straighter and looking more like his normal, laidback self again, "I'd heard some rumors, and a few of my…less reluctant employees have mentioned on a couple occasions that the soul count in Hell seems to have gone down a tad." Sam and Dean exchanged confused looks, but the angels were quick to tense, their eyes widening at the news. "I'm afraid it's true. In fact, more than a few hundred souls are unaccounted for."

"Uh…what?" Dean broke the silence, feeling uncomfortably out of his depth.

Crowley rolled his eyes, motioning at the angels to talk, "You explain. I'm too tired to repeat myself for the kiddies." Ignoring the bitchface from Sam and the glare from Dean, he walked towards the kitchen, almost effectively hiding his limp as he passed by Bobby, "How about a drink, darling?" he teased, still a little breathless.

To Dean's surprise, Bobby barely rolled his eyes before following the demon inside, and Balthazar watched them both with a raised eyebrow before glancing at the angels worrying about in the living room. Making a face, he turned around and followed Crowley and Bobby into the kitchen.

Rolling his eyes at the angel's attitude, Dean turned back to look at the concerned trio left in the room.

"Alright so…anyone gonna tell us what the hell was that about? What did Raphael do?"

Castiel was more talking to himself than answering the question, his brow creased in a frown as he looked down in thought, "I didn't think he'd cross that line. You think…" he looked at Gabriel, "Could he be that desperate?"

"Maybe. Maybe he just wants to bring out the big fireworks and make sure we stay dead this time." Gabriel answered, his own face completely serious.

"Hey!" he called angrily. Three pairs of eyes looked at him, as though they hadn't even noticed him standing there. Way to make a guy feel insignificant, "What the hell is going on?" he demanded, looking from one angel to the other.

Sam, who'd been trying to work it out by himself—and was apparently more or less on the right track, the big nerd—, looked at Cas with questioning eyes, "So, did Raphael break into Hell? Why did the soul count go down, did he steal them?"

Well, shit.

That didn't sound good.

"Yes," Castiel nodded gravely, "And if he's going to use them, I'm afraid we will be more at a disadvantage than I thought."

"Why? I mean, what's he gonna do with them?" Dean asked, walking up to the angel and feeling dread already gnaw at his stomach.

"Let's just say a regime of souls is about the same as swallowing a couple nuclear reactors." Gabriel answered for him.

Fuck.

_We're so screwed._

"Shit," he hissed, running his hands through his hair as he stepped away.

"Yep." Gabriel agreed.

"Maybe he wanted enough energy to make sure opening the cage wouldn't drain him." Castiel offered.

"Makes sense," Gabriel nodded, "Especially if he's counting on us coming along to try and ruin his show."

"But does he really think he'll still be in power if he frees Michael and Lucifer?" Miel despaired, and Dean could tell the thought of her brothers locked up in that cage still made her heart bleed.

"I suppose he thinks Michael and Lucifer will engage in battle and finally kill each other. Maybe even take the planet with them." Castiel answered with his sad blue eyes, "That way he won't have to deal with the Earth anymore. He might even find a way to conquer Hell if it means securing his reign in Heaven."

"Whoa, whoa, _wait._ I thought the ninja turtle just wanted everything to be over," Dean frowned. He'd only really met Raphael once, and as much of a dick as he'd been, he hadn't struck him as a power hungry angel. "Now he wants to be the boss upstairs?"

"I'm afraid his position as the only remaining archangel of the original four has gotten to his head," Cas shook his head, "Gabriel has been away too long to reclaim his old post, and the new power I was granted didn't put me high enough in the chain of command to be a threat to him." A small smile curled up his lips, "Technically."

Gabriel laughed, and Dean grinned briefly before patting the angel's shoulder. "Bastard probably didn't know what hit him."

Castiel's smile widened slightly, and the tension in the room diminished considerably.

"Alright," Sam started with a sigh, "So what do we do? Souls or not, we can't let him open the cage."

"Ya think, Gigantor?" Gabriel snorted, sobering as the danger of the approaching battle sank in again, "We'll have to make do with what we have." He sighed, "Crowley's mostly out of the game, and his demons don't really stand a chance, but his hell hounds would be of great help against Raphael's army." His eyes were looking over Castiel's shoulder to where Crowley stood leaning on the doorway, "Think we can borrow your puppies?"

Crowley shrugged, "They've been dying to go for a walk anyway." He hid his smirk in his glass, making a slightly disgusted face as he swallowed before glaring at Bobby. "When this is over I'll bring you a box of decent aged scotch, mate. This is ridiculous."

"There's a bottle of old 'fuck you' in the cabinet." Bobby grouched. Looking towards the boys and the angels, he got back to business, "When are you boys heading out?"

Dean opened his mouth, then closed it and looked at Gabriel in askance.

"Raphael will probably start the ritual at sunset," Gabriel informed them, "We need to stop him before he starts mouthing off the spell, but we can't get there before he does. It'll give him a chance to take us by surprise."

"So basically get there right after he does? Great." Dean nodded.

"I'm coming with you." A new voice claimed. They all turned to see Eli perched on Bobby's desk.

"Eli, no. We've talked about this, kiddo—" Gabriel started, walking over to the little angel.

"_No_." he cut in, his blue eyes clearly set on what his decision, "Miel's going. I'm going too."

Miel bit her lip, and Dean remembered that Raphael had almost killed her not that long ago and Eli had been unable to do anything. Kid must have really wanted some payback. Dean couldn't blame him.

"Melly's a healer, she won't be there to fight."

"Exactly." Eli persisted, as stubborn as his older brother, probably more. Scary thought. "Someone needs to watch her back, and you'll all be too focused on the battle to protect her."

"Eli—" Miel pleaded, taking a step towards her twin. Sometimes Dean forgot that Miel wasn't that much older than Elijah.

Eli directed his bright blue eyes at his sister, "I'm not letting him hurt you again." he vowed.

Mel froze, her eyes sad as she looked at her brother. The insecurity of her grace and the quivering of her wings made her seem the younger sibling for a moment as she looked down. "I don't want you getting hurt either, Eli."

"Like Raphael will risk doing anything to me," Eli bragged, puffing out his chest, trying to cheer her up a bit, "I'll kick his ass."

"That's all fine and dandy, kid, but what about Lisa and Ben? I thought you were keeping an eye on them." That earned him a blank stare from the little angel.

"Wow, _really?_ You think I'd just ditch them like that? That hurts." Seriously, if Eli turned out to be exactly like Gabriel they were all in for a nightmare. "I created a protective field around their house," he informed him proudly, "No one can get through it."

Before Dean could protest, Castiel placed a hand on his shoulder, "It's true, Dean. Elijah's shields are among the best of the host. He's a protector, it's his specialty."

Nodding grudgingly, he watched as Eli gave Cas a beaming smile at the compliment.

"Fine." He pointed a finger at the little angel, "But you better not get involved, pipsqueak. You cover Mel and that's it, you hear me?"

Elijah nodded firmly, his eyes wide as he watched Dean with sudden curiosity. The hunter didn't notice as he and Mel looked at him oddly before turning to Cas. As though the angel could read his mind, Castiel closed his eyes and glanced up—almost rolling his eyes.

"Dean, I can still fight." He said. Dean opened his mouth, but Cas beat him to it. Again. "I won't confront Raphael. I'll focus on the other angels."

With a nod, he patted the angel's shoulder again. "Good man." He grinned. This time Cas actually rolled his eyes, a small smile tugging on his lips.

"Awww, how sweet. I think I might puke." Gabriel gagged, "_So_, if you're done being bossy, Deano. I've got something for you."

Dean turned to face the archangel to see him holding up an angel blade. While it looked exactly the same as all the others he'd seen, Dean had a feeling this one was different. Just like Gabriel's was different from an ordinary angel sword. Raising his eyebrows, he didn't try to hide his surprise as he met Gabriel's golden eyes, "Archangel blade?"

Gabriel smiled, "_Michael's_ blade." He wiggled his eyebrows, "Figured you'd appreciate the irony."

Dean snorted. To be honest, using the big dick upstairs' sword to kick Raphael's ass had a nice ring to it. "Aw, you shouldn't have." He joked, watching as Gabriel's grin widened.

"Sammy, I'm sure Crow-crow's got a present for you too. No need to give us the kicked puppy face." He winked.

"What?" Sam blinked.

Crowley sighed theatrically before strolling over to Sam, "Can't say I feel safe giving this to you, but," he twirled the angel blade in his hand in mock contemplation, "Lesser of two evils, I guess." He offered the sword to Sam.

Miel's gasp drew his eyes towards the angel, and the way she looked at the blade like it could sprout wings and fly away any moment made him frown, "Is that—" she looked at Crowley, her blue eyes big and pleading. A puppy eyed look if he ever saw one, "How did you find it?"

Crowley's grey eyes softened slightly as he took on the young angel before he covered the sentiment with his usual smirking mask, "King of Hell," he pointed at himself, arching his eyebrows suggestively.

"So this is really…Lucifer's blade?" Sam stammered, holding the blade with wide eyes. With a frown, Dean noticed that Sam's essence had strengthened on touching the blade, and he looked at the sword still in Gabriel's hands before taking it carefully in his own.

Whatever sarcastic response Crowley gave to Sam was lost to him in the sudden flush of grace that spread through him. It lasted no more than a second, but Dean blinked at the sword stupidly for at least a minute before finally snapping out of his trance.

"So," Gabriel smirked knowingly at Dean's reaction, "Now that we're all armed and ready. How 'bout we kick some ass?"

* * *

Minutes away from being zapped to the Stull Cemetery, Dean could feel the tension thicken by the second. Cas had gone ahead, his now diminished grace serving as an unexpected advantage to remain under Raphael and his scouts' radar. Meanwhile, they all stood waiting for Miel to receive the signal from Castiel.

Taking a deep breath, Dean tried to keep his grace under control and focused on the angelic armors Gabriel, Cas and Balthazar had made for all of them. Which, while they would protect them from kicks and punches, would not be of much use if they were stabbed.

He'd sort of been expecting the old-fashioned metal armor—maybe silver and gold, since the angels were VIPs and all—, but to the human eye, they were just wearing their normal clothes. If he paid attention, he could see the translucent layer of white-yellow light that enveloped them from head to toe, barely distinguishable from their grace.

Sam's was the easiest to see. His essence—since he hadn't really been angelified, he was more like a demonized version of Lucifer—was of a dark red color, almost black. Narrowing his eyes slightly, he tilted his head to see a slight change of light behind Sam's back, and blinked upon noticing that it looked kinda like skeletal wings.

Huh.

"Dean."

He focused on the wings more closely, trying to see them more clearly as he answered distractedly, "Yeah."

"Take a picture. It'll last longer." Sam bitched.

Taking his eyes away from the wings, he raised his eyebrows, "Am I making you uncomfortable, Sammy?"

"You're just jealous because I have wings and you don't."

"Right. Like I'd be jealous of your bony wings."

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

Sam opened his mouth to say something else, but was stopped short when Miel suddenly tensed, her hands going to her forehead with a wince.

After a moment, Balthazar put a hand on her shoulder, "Miel?"

Mel took a breath and opened her eyes, "That was the signal. Raphael just got there."

Gabriel nodded gravely, "Alright, guys." He raised a hand, "Good luck." With a snap of his fingers, Bobby's living room disappeared, and Dean opened his eyes to see Cas placing a finger over his lips, motioning with his eyes towards Raphael and at least a couple dozens of angels.

It took him a second to realize that Raphael was now in a woman's vessel.

"Wow." He muttered. "Dude looks like a lady."

Gabriel snorted, and Sam rolled his eyes. Sending his brother a boyish grin, he looked back at Raphael and twirled Michael's blade in his hand.

"How long until the hell hounds get here?" he whispered.

Castiel met his eyes, then looked towards the other side of the field, past Raphael and his goons. With a frown, Dean followed his gaze.

Suddenly, the last row of angels fell over in a chorus of agonized shrieks, making Raphael turn around with more annoyance than alarm. The roars and barks of Crowley's hellhounds filled the air around them, and Dean tried not to look at them too closely now that he knew he'd be able to see them. Beasts were pretty gross.

While Raphael was distracted, Eli dispersed the shield Dean hadn't known he'd put around them, and they charged forward.

* * *

Dean soon lost sight of the others, but he let his grace take over as he slew angel after angel. A part of him, one he'd locked away after being brought back from Hell, relished upon seeing the horror and fear on the angel's graces before light exploded from their vessels. He could only guess how many taboos he'd broken by drinking an angel's blood. A feral grin spread across his face at the thought.

Let them be scared of him.

As the angel's started losing numbers, he found himself back to back with Castiel. The angel was panting as he raised his blade at chest height. Dean turned his head and opened his mouth, only for Cas to interrupt him.

"Get down!" Without hesitating, he crouched down just as an angel was raising his blade in front of him. Castiel slashed around just above Dean's head, cutting the angel's neck. It didn't kill him, but it distracted him long enough for Dean to stand and shove Michael's blade up into his chest.

As the angel's grace burned out, Dean stood once again with his back against Castiel's.

"Is this it? I thought there'd be more!" he yelled over the roar of the fight.

"The rest of the battle is taking place in Heaven!" Cas brought an angel down on his knees and dug his blade downward by his collarbone. "These are just Raphael's guards!"

Dean kicked another angel away from him and grinned as a hellhound took over and closed its powerful jaws around the stunt angel's neck. Turns out Crowley's puppies were actually not that bad. Dean wouldn't mind taking one on a hunt.

"Has he started the spell yet?" he yelled, glancing at Cas briefly to see him disarm a sleazy-looking angel. The bastard staggered away from Cas, only for his angel to throw the stolen blade at him and impale him through the chest. He grinned. Cas was actually a real badass when he got into a fight. Gotta give the nerdy angel that.

"Gabriel's keeping him busy." Castiel answered between harsh pants. There were only about five or six angels left, and Dean allowed himself to look around in search for the rest of the recently expanded Team Free Will.

Balthazar was kicking ass somewhere far to his right. He was practically playing the two angels as he provoked them with his laughter and sarcastic comments. With a dexterity that spoke of centuries of experience, Balthazar tricked one of the angels into stabbing his partner, then clicked his tongue as the poor idiot realized his mistake before stabbing him through the neck.

For a sassy bastard, Balthazar could be cool when he wanted to. Not that Dean would ever tell him that.

Ever.

Sam's familiar furious yell drew his eyes towards the other side of the yard.

_Jesus fuck._

Dean couldn't say he'd ever watched Sam training with Crowley, but he kinda wished he had. His little brother was pretty fucking scary. His dark essence spreading to coat his skeletal wings with something akin to smoke-like feathers. A terrified angel muttered the name of the devil and tried to flee, only for Sam to extend his hand and practically suck him right back in front of him. The angel barely have time to react before Sam was shoving Lucifer's blade through his chest with a force that made Dean almost wince.

Two angels were mauled down by hellhounds somewhere in front of Cas. Looking for the last of Raphael's guard squad, he felt Eli's grace soar and found him just in time to see him throw a bluish looking energy towards the angel that was stupid enough to try and sneak up on Miel.

Poor Mel was looking at the dead angels with a heart wrenching sorrow in her grace that made Dean wish they could have kept her away from all this. She looked pale, her wings shivering as she took on the effects of the brutal battle.

Castiel must have seen this too, as he immediately flew to her and tried to calm her down. Sam joined them soon, and it was then that Dean noticed the blood stemming from his brother's shoulder. Running over to them, Dean's stomach sank as he realized how close his brother had been to getting stabbed through the neck.

But Sam's wound was apparently exactly what Mel needed to focus on something other than the death of her brothers. Instructing for Sam to sit down, she immediately set out to heal him, and Dean felt grateful that she'd come despite how much it hurt her to see her family kill each other.

Knowing Mel would take good care of Sammy, Dean finally searched for Gabriel and Raphael. It took him a moment to find them, but once he did, he felt his body freeze. Gabriel was barely holding Raphael off, the (female) ninja turtle's power boost apparently putting her in a completely new league. His eyes met Balthazar's from across the graveyard, and he saw the same dread in the angel's blue eyes.

Feeling his grace flare with renewed purpose, he gave a last glance at the younger angels and his brother. Miel was forcing herself to keep her focus on Sam, but Eli was looking at his brother Gabriel with a look of worry he'd seen many times in Sam's eyes. Castiel seemed to notice this as well, but before he reached for the little angel, Elijah flew straight towards the fight, grace burning with anger.

"Eli!" he yelled, running quickly to intercept him. His grace-induced speed allowed him to reach the tiny angel just before he stepped into the fight. "Stop! _Stop! _You can't!" he growled over the thunder that shattered the sky above the archangels.

"Let me go! He's going to kill him! He can't die!" The angel's voice shook with anger and fear, wide blue eyes never leaving his older brother. "He can't die again!"

"He won't!" Dean promised him uselessly, holding him close while keeping his eyes glued to the fight as well. "He won't die, but you need to stay out of it!"

Gabriel's sword clashed with Raphael's, breaking the sky with the rattling sound of thunder. Dean could see Gabriel struggling to hold his brother (sister) off, and while Raphael's face had no emotion, her eyes betrayed how satisfied she was with her brother's inferior strength.

As though she'd just noticed them watching, she turned dark eyes towards them. And it said something of the difference in their power that she could still keep Gabriel at bay. "Elijah. You should not be here. Fledgings like you and your sister don't belong in the battlefield."

Eli shook with rage beside Dean, and he was tempted to let the little angel have a go at the bitch. "Don't you dare talk about her, Raphael. And leave Gabriel alone." His voice was ice cold, and Dean found himself taking a step away from the fledging at the sheer wrath burning in his grace.

"E-Eli, what are you doing!" Gabriel grunted between clenched teeth, his arms shaking with the effort of keeping Raphael's blade away.

"Hmm." Raphael mused, "Maybe you're right." Turning her dark eyes to Gabriel, her face denoted amusement as she observed the former Trickster's struggle. "He does look very tired." Raising her free hand, her palm shone with a white-hot light that made Dean want to cover his eyes. Gabriel's choked gasp made his chest constrict as the archangel was thrown at frightening speed to the other side of the graveyard.

"GABRIEL!" Eli's scream was followed by Miel's horrified shriek as the angel landed roughly, barely ten feet away from where she, Sam and Cas were. Dean watched wide-eyed as the archangel let out a strangled wheeze before hacking coughs shook his body as he started choking on his own blood.

Miel flew to him immediately and tried to get a response from him as she started healing him. She looked so pale Dean feared the strain from the deaths of battle and Gabriel's wounded state would be too much for her. But while her eyes shined with unshed tears, her grace flared with anger at the sight of her brother being hurt like this. The anger would give her power. She'd save Gabriel.

A low chuckle made his hair stand on end, and he directed a heated glare at Raphael. Her eyes were on Elijah as the little angel stared wide-eyed at the fallen shape of his brother. Raphael tutted disapprovingly, "You disappoint me, Elijah. Consorting with these heathens and humans…" she shook her head calmly. "It's like you're asking to be punished, little brother."

If looks could kill, Raphael would have dropped dead as soon as Elijah turned his attention on her. His grace was burning out of control, and Dean knew he was struggling not to let his power explode—and probably take them all out in the process. He needed Eli out of there before he hurt himself.

"_Balthazar!_" he roared, ignoring the way Raphael's eyes widened slightly when his grace carried his voice well over the rage of the thunderstorm above them.

The distraction was enough for Eli's power to shrink momentarily at his outburst, and Balthazar took no time in flying to the little angel and zapping him away from the graveyard. He knew Elijah would most likely dunk him in a shark tank as soon as they got back, but right now Dean needed to keep the fledging out of trouble. And draining himself in a spur of heavenly wrath would only make him an easier target if Raphael survived the attack.

Holding Michael's blade at chest height, Dean faced the archangel staring at him with almost disgusted curiosity. As she paced to the side, Dean went the opposite way. Moving in circles like a couple of animals; she with cold confidence, he with scorching anger, Dean grew tired of her silence.

"_What?_" he snarled.

"Your voice." She answered, eyes examining him carefully. Dean thought he could see a spark of fear deep within her grace, but she was quick to cover it up.

"What about it?" his voice vibrated off his chest like a growl. He could feel his grace pulse inside of him, waiting for him to let its power go.

"It echoes of Michael." She narrowed her eyes, "You have an archangel's grace."

"Took you long enough, sister," his lips stretched over his teeth in a feral grin. The utter disgust in the curl of her lips only made his grin widen. "You figure it out all by yourself?"

She glared at him, "_Abortion_," she hissed, "You think you can become one of us, human? _You_ who crawl over this broken and dried out paradise with airs of undeserving importance? What gives you the right?"

"As your big brother Luci once said," his green eyes shined with the golden-white light of his grace, "No one gives us the right," He saw that spark of fear in Raphael's eyes again as he appeared in front of her. Her blade clashed with his, and the roar of thunder shook in his chest. "We take it." He hissed by her ear.

Dean didn't give her time to talk back, his attacks rained down on her as his anger only made his power grow. She flared her wings, her fear dissolving into rage at the thought of a hybrid like him beating her. Dean managed to keep control of his grace, but Raphael was fast, and he had to jump away from her. Her blade nicked his cheek, and he felt warm blood trickle down his face as they stared each other off.

"Who gave you that light?" she demanded as they started circling again. Suddenly, she froze, staring intently at the blood on his cheek, and Dean felt his stomach sink with dread as she smiled. "I see. So he's lowered himself to kneel before you again." He blinked and she was suddenly in front of him. His blade rose instinctively to stop hers, and lightning lit the clouded sky as they met with the clash of thunder. A growl vibrated of his chest as she licked the blood off his face, "Ah, yes. Your blood still tastes of him." She whispered almost in surprise, her breath cold on his cheek. "Little, naughty Castiel." Dean's grace screamed in warning, and his blood froze in his veins. "He hasn't learned his lesson yet."

Then she was gone.

Dean searched frantically for Castiel, who was standing in front of Miel and Gabriel with his blade in hand, Sam kneeling by the fallen archangel, still nursing his half-healed shoulder. Dean's heart hammered loudly against his ribcage as he started running towards the angel.

"Cas!"

Castiel's blue eyes widened as they met his.

Then Raphael was in front of him, and Dean saw the silver flash of her blade before the sickening sound of metal piercing flesh echoed loudly in his ears.

"CAS!"

* * *

A.N. ...Don't kill me?


	19. Divine Retribution

Sam heard his brother call out to Castiel and looked away from Gabriel. Cas was standing in front of them, guarding them in case anything tried to take out the archangel while he was down. As his eyes found Dean, Sam blanched at the raw fear he saw in his brother's expression. His stomach dropped, and he turned his eyes to the angel watching over them.

Then Raphael was suddenly there, and Sam barely had time to shout a warning before she'd stabbed Castiel with a flash of silver.

"NO!" Raw anger burned through him, and the pain in his shoulder was forgotten as Sam let go of every ounce of control and let the remnants of Lucifer's presence inside him take over.

He barely registered as Raphael glared at Cas in frustration before lunging towards the archangel. His anger gave him speed, and he managed to take her by surprise. With a roar that reverberated inside his chest and echoed in the sky, Sam threw her away from the angel and to the other side of the graveyard.

Sam felt Dean's grace take his place at Cas' side and left the angel in his brother's care before throwing all caution to the wind and attacking the bitch that dared hurt his family.

Raphael struggled to fend him off, the same fear he'd seen in her eyes the first time they'd met. Sam's ethereal black wings flared open in cold satisfaction upon seeing it.

"What are you?" she gasped after narrowly avoiding taking his sword to her heart, "You're no demon." Sam didn't stop to explain himself, slashing at her with freezing anger that relished with every small cut that went past her defenses, "You can't be Lucifer."

A painful memory of standing trapped in a mirror while Lucifer stood opposite to him on the other side burned him from the inside out. Sam snarled, his eyes blazing with hatred at his remembered entrapment and the archangel standing before him. Their swords clashed, and the black essence coursing through his veins gave him new strength. Using his superior height to his advantage, he hovered above her, looking down on the arrogant archangel who glared at him in fear and rage. "No, I'm not him." He agreed. His hackles rose, showing a sadistic smile that was devoid of anything but coldness, "I'm the one on the other side of the mirror."

Her smaller frame froze, a mix of horror and fright in her eyes. Sam wasted no time, knowing he could only hold her off until she got really angry. With a wave from his free hand, she was thrown away from him. Raphael actually let out a surprised yelp and tried opening her wings to stop the fall, but Sam wouldn't have it. Closing his hand in a fist, he watched in sick fascination as her wings struggled against the invisible binds keeping them tight to her back.

And if Sam were anything close to his normal self, he would have been scared at the way his voice darkened to a pitch more attuned to a soulless monster than a human.

"What's the matter, Raphael?" a small grin pulled on the corner of his lips as he walked slowly towards her, "Somebody clip your wings?"

* * *

Dean watched as his brother went all-out on Raphael, but barely had time to worry before Cas started falling backwards. With a thought, he was by the angel's side, falling to his knees as he held him in his arms.

"Cas!" he rasped, keeping an arm behind his angel's shoulders to help him sit up. Castiel's eyes were clenched shut, his breath coming out in strangled pants, "Cas, look at me!" Pain filled blue eyes opened to look up at the hunter, and Dean's heart clenched at the agony in them.

"D—" Castiel grunted, his teeth already tinted with red as he hissed in pain, "Dean…"

"Yeah. Yeah, it's me. It's me, Cas. I'm here." Dean smiled shakily, tightening his hold on the angel's shoulders, barely aware of his other hand gripping the angel's trench coat for dear life. "You're gonna be okay, buddy. It's gonna be alright."

Castiel opened his mouth to say something, but another wave of pain took the words away from him, leaving him trembling in the hunter's arms. Blue eyes glanced down to his chest and Dean followed the agonized gaze to see Castiel remove his bloody hand from the wound.

A knot formed in the hunter's throat at just how close to the heart the bloodied hole was. But fear morphed into horror as he saw a white-blue light oozing from the wound. Shaking his head, Dean felt his eyes burn at what Cas was trying to tell him. "No. No, Cas. It's okay. _You're gonna be okay, alright_?"

Castiel's eyes were full of sadness as he met his, "Dean, I—"

"_No!_" He yelled. "No. You're not dying, you hear me? You'll be fine."

Looking away from the angel, he searched desperately for Miel and Gabriel. Miel was staring at Castiel in absolute horror, the blood completely drained from her face, shaking like a leaf at the sight of her brother. Gabriel had crawled to Castiel's other side, golden eyes gleaming with pain, sadness and something that Dean refused to see as defeat.

"Castiel," he whispered in a shuddering breath. As he looked down at the wound, a small smile lit his face, and Dean frowned in confusion as the archangel eyed his little brother with pride. "You sneaky little fledging." He chuckled chokingly.

Castiel's lips curled up in a tiny, barely-there smile, "I t-tried to…keep her from…my hea—" a hacking cough made him wince in agony before he managed to take in enough air to continue, "…My heart."

"You did good, little brother." Gabriel smiled, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

"G-Gabriel," Castiel's smile faded in favor of a new fear that clouded pain filled eyes, "Can't…I c-can't…breathe."

"I know, brother," Gabriel swallowed thickly, "I know. It's okay."

"Wha—What the hell are you doing?" Dean demanded, his voice tight, "Heal him! Do it, _now_!"

Gabriel shook his head sadly, "I can't."

"What do you mean, you can't?" the archangel didn't answer, and Dean felt his chest constrict painfully as he looked at Miel, only to see her hiding her face in her hands, her wings quivering behind her. "He's—" he turned green eyes to agonized blue, his heart bleeding at the sight of the glazed pain he saw in them. "He's dying! You have to heal him!"

"Even if I heal his vessel, his grace is already leaving him, I can't keep it ins—" Suddenly, Gabriel's eyes widened, and he looked down to see Castiel staring up at him intently, his breathing erratic, "Castiel," he gasped, "You can't be serious."

"What? _What is it?_" Dean's eyes searched the archangel, desperately clinging to the sudden glimmer of hope he found in Gabriel's grace.

A cold, weakened hand closed over his, pulling his eyes away from gold and back to ocean blue, "Dean…my grace," he rasped, "T-take it."

"No," he shook his head numbly, "No, Cas. I can't." Like hell he was sucking away what little life was left in his friend. Like Cas wasn't bleeding enough already. "I'm not gonna go all Vampire Diaries on you now, are you crazy?" he all but yelled.

He could have sworn Castiel rolled his eyes right then, but Gabriel took over for his dying brother, his hand gripping Dean's arm and leaving what would be a hell of a bruise come a couple hours, "No, Dean, listen to him. It could work. You have to do it." Blazing golden eyes dug into his frightened green ones, "You'll defeat Raphael—"

"Yeah, that's great, asshole, but what about Cas?" he snapped angrily.

"If he gives you his grace willingly, he'll fall. He'll be _human._ And we'll be able to heal him!" Gabriel pressed impatiently, keeping the possibility of failure to himself.

Dean gaped like a fish for probably too long, his heart thundering behind his temples. There had to be another way.

"But—"

"Dean!" Castiel rasped, his voice drowning in the blood pooling in his throat. "I won't…die." Dean looked down at the angel like he'd finally lost it.

"I'm not sucking out your blood, Cas!" He refused, but Cas was already shaking his head.

"D—don't…have to…" he wheezed, coughing out more blood. His eyes were already shinning with white-blue grace, light trying to escape from within his pupils. The pull of grace made Cas arch his back and shut his eyes in agony as he tried to hold it back. "Dean!"

"Alright, alright! I'll do it!" He gave in, swallowing the bile in his throat and blinking away tears, "What do I have to do?"

A shaking, pale hand rose to cup his face, and Dean watched helplessly as Gabriel's bloodied hand covered Castiel's eyes to keep his grace from escaping.

"Cas?" his voice shook as trembling fingers moved to the nape of his neck, weakly pulling his head down.

"J-just…" Castiel swallowed thickly, light shining from within him as he struggled to breathe, and Dean subconsciously leaned closer in an attempt to hear him. "Don't…freak out."

Before he could think of a response, Cas found the last of his waning strength and pulled Dean's lips firmly over his.

Dean's eyes widened, every instinct telling him to pull away. But before he could—as Cas graciously put it—'freak out', a sudden rush of energy started flowing through him. He could feel Castiel's grace practically fill him with its familiar warmth. Dean clenched his eyes shut, bursting with the increasingly raging heat of Castiel's power, and thinking absently that it felt like swallowing the freaking _sun_.

Agony exploded from his back, and Dean felt like he was freeing a side of himself that had been dormant for too long. He felt lighter, almost weightless, and yet massively heavy at the same time. Pain and pleasure engaged in ruthless battle within him, and Dean feared he might actually explode if his body didn't _calm the fuck down._

He could feel every single blood vessel inside him light up with power. His skin burned, and the ground around them shook as his grace took every ounce of what Castiel was giving him and multiplied it by a fucking hundred; stealing the light out of the dying angel until Dean's eyes burst open, beams of residual energy burning out of his white-golden orbs.

As his vision returned to him, he found himself holding onto Castiel; one hand buried in dark tresses hair while the other was pressed over Castiel's wound, holding Castiel's shaking fingers with a gentleness that coexisted in paradox with the new power raging inside him.

As they parted, Gabriel slowly removed his hand from the angel's eyes.

"Cas?" he asked, his voice vibrating in the air around them. Castiel's eyes didn't open, but his lips curled up in a tiny smile, his breathing so shallow Dean would not have heard it were it not for his new acute hearing.

Gabriel placed a hand on his shoulder, "Sam's in trouble. Go. We'll take care of him." He assured him.

Dean nodded, carefully lowering the angel down on the grass. As he pushed himself to his feet, he met Miel's eyes. The awe he saw in them brought a small smile to his lips. "Ramiel," He pleaded quietly, "Save him."

His voice echoed with another, and Dean could only guess it was Michael's reflection within him. Miel's eyes suddenly filled with warmth, and she nodded tearfully, a blinding smile bringing color back to her features. "I will." She vowed.

Dean's smile widened, and he looked down at Castiel one last time, "Thank you, Cas."

His new wings spread from his back, and Dean heaved a long breath before taking flight for the first time, searching for Raphael and his brother.

* * *

As soon as Dean disappeared, Miel rushed to Castiel's side, gently pulling away her brother's hand from the wound before carefully placing hers over the frightening hole, no longer spurting anything but blood; the light within him long gone. "It's all right, Castiel." She assured him quietly, her voice shaking with emotion. He hands shone with the light of her grace, and she let out a breath of relief as she saw the terrifying wound start closing.

"…Miel," the rasp of Castiel's voice was so quiet, she barely heard it. And as she and Gabriel turned to look at their brother, they were met with a pair of unseeing blue eyes. "Gabriel, I—I can't…" The almost silent shudder in her brother's breath made her shiver, and tears welled anew as Castiel's eyes blindly searched for her and Gabriel's faces, "I can't see."

Miel sucked in a shuddering breath, while Gabriel swallowed thickly and quickly reached out to hold Castiel's hand, desperately searching for either of his siblings. Gripping his brother's hand and pressing it to his chest, Gabriel's heart broke at the sorrow in Castiel's voice as he kept on whispering brokenly, numbly.

"I can't see."

* * *

Dean touched ground a few feet away from Sam and Raphael, just in time to see the archangel slam his brother, back first, onto the grass. She raised her blade, a triumphant shine in her eyes, "It's too bad, little monster," her lip curled up in condescension, "Were it not for the souls I've taken, this would have been a very interesting battle."

The sight of his little brother, panting harshly on the ground with blood on his arms and chest flipped a switch in Dean's mind. And if he thought he was pissed before, he was practically livid now.

With a thought, his wings placed him right by the archangel, and he closed his hand around her arm just as she was bringing down the sword on Sammy. Her hand was firmly held in place, and as she struggled against his grip, she turned wide eyes to look at him.

Dean greeted her with cold eyes and a small smile that was barely a twitch of his lips. "How about I make it interesting for you then?"

* * *

Sam watched wide-eyed as his brother stopped Raphael like it was nothing. He'd managed to keep her occupied for some time, but the archangel had soon gone back to her senses and kept herself in check. It had been harder to get a hit in afterwards, and he'd mostly had to dodge and use as many openings as she'd granted him.

Trying to get his breath back, he caught sight of Dean's eyes, shining with a light that hadn't been there the last time he'd seen him. In fact, Dean didn't even look like himself at all. The large, white and golden-tipped wings sprouting from his back, for starters, had made him think he was in the presence of Michael at first. The way he stood alone was already different from what he was used to seeing from his brother.

This Dean wasn't his cocky, shoot-first-ask-questions-later brother. This Dean reminded him more of the master torturer from Hell, Alastair's favorite apprentice. This Dean was cold. But unlike the empty shell of his brother that he'd seen the few times he'd witnessed Dean regress to that stage…this Dean was full of power.

Full of light.

He was magnificent.

Staring in awe at his brother, Sam was brought back to the present by Dean's voice. Calm, yet pulsing with energy.

"Sam." He flinched, suddenly irrationally intimidated by the man—angel—in front of him. "Go with Gabriel and the others." There was no room for argument, that was an order, "I'll take it from here."

Nodding hurriedly, Sam let what little power he had left retreat back to the safety of his soul with a breath of relief. Fighting Raphael had practically drained him, and he knew he would have been killed had Dean not saved his ass. Knowing better than to stick around and allow Raphael to try and use him to get to Dean, Sam staggered to his feet and rushed to where Gabriel and Miel were trying to heal a fallen Castiel.

Castiel!

He had to make sure he was okay.

Glancing briefly over his shoulder at his brother's back—his powerful, spread wings—, Sam ran, bringing forth what little energy he had left to get to Castiel faster.

He dropped to his knees as soon as he reached them, immediately searching for the wound Raphael had inflicted on the angel. To his relief, it was almost healed, and he hunched back with a huff of strangled laughter.

"Sam?" the hesitation in Castiel's voice made him frown. Cas's blue eyes were looking in his general direction. Concussion?

"Yeah, Cas." He replied softly, still slightly out of breath, "I'm here."

A trembling hand stretched out towards him, and Sam reached for it almost instinctively, moving closer to his friend. He felt confusion take hold of him and glanced at Gabriel for an explanation. But before he could try to make sense of the strange look in the archangel's eyes, Castiel's hand moved from his own to travel up his arm and carefully search for his face. The tentative and gentle touch of Castiel's fingers on his cheek hit him like sucker punch to the stomach, and Sam found himself gasping out a shuddering breath.

_Oh God._

"Are you hurt?" Castiel asked, oblivious to the horror in Sam's eyes.

"No, I—" Sam's voice broke, and his eyes burned as Cas tilted his head with a small frown, concern in his…his blind eyes. "Cas, I…God, _Cas_, you're—"

Realization made Castiel's eyes widen, and the angel—although Sam couldn't feel any grace now, was he maybe too weakened to see it?—swallowed thickly, a small, forced smile tinged with sadness on his face, "It's okay, Sam." His hand fell from the hunter's face, and Sam found himself reaching for it, holding it almost desperately.

His eyes searched Miel's and Gabriel's expressions, waiting—hoping—for them to tell him that they could still heal Cas. That Cas would not be blind forever. But Miel was avoiding his gaze, focused solely on fixing Castiel's wound, and Gabriel shook his head sadly.

"Yeah." Blinking away tears, Sam tightened his hold on Castiel's hand and forced a smile, "You're right," he nodded, trying to swallow the choking knot in his throat, "Everything—" his voice betrayed him for a moment, and Sam cleared his throat, tears welling up stubbornly at the fondness in Castiel's eyes as he noticed his efforts, "Everything's gonna be alright. You're gonna be alright." He promised, both to Cas and himself.

Castiel's hand gave his a weak squeeze, and Sam struggled not to cry at the thought of the blind angel trying to comfort him.

Once Miel finished healing him, she sat closer to her brother, moving her hand from his closed wound to run trembling fingers through his dark hair.

Sam watched them quietly, still holding on to the angel's hand for dear life. Thunder clashed somewhere behind them, and Sam suddenly felt a deep sorrow run through him like ice.

_This is going to kill Dean._

* * *

Raphael watched him with disgust, the treacherous gleam of fear still in her eyes, right there for Dean to see.

"I should have killed Castiel a long time ago." She growled, "This is _sacrilegious_." A nervous grin curled her lips up, almost fading under the calm stare of Dean's half-hooded eyes. "I doubt God will be bringing him back this time," she tried—almost pathetically—to rile him up. But then again, Dean knew better than to doubt Castiel was alive. Graceless or not, Dean could feel his soul—his new, _human_ soul—just on the other side of the graveyard. "Castiel has outlived his original purpose, and not even Father will forgive his actions. What he's done goes against everything angels stand for."

The corner of Dean's lips curled up in a small grin, "Knew there was a reason I liked him." He twirled his blade in his hand, almost distractedly, "I'll have to congratulate him later."

Raphael paled, disbelief clear in her eyes, the fear of having nothing on the human anymore sinking in, "He's alive." Her voice shook.

Dean's grin widened, turning feral, "Alive and kickin'." He took on a fighting stance, wings catching what little light slipped through the sea of thunderclouds above them, "And honestly, I'd rather go hang out with him than stay here and chat with you, so let's get this over with, shall we?"

The archangel's eyes hardened, hiding insecurity behind a wall of anger. She _was_ a warrior, after all. She was probably a much better fighter than Dean was. But Dean's power was equal to or greater than Michael's now, and Raphael's soul-boost just wouldn't cut it anymore.

Suddenly, Dean held up a finger. "Hold up." He glanced briefly towards Gabriel, "I wanna try something out."

Raphael tilted her head, a gesture that only made Dean's eyes narrow, his mask of cold amusement remaining intact. Dean raised his eyebrows, and immediately saw her anger falter, giving way to horror as Dean raised a hand. A blinding light spread from his palm, and Raphael barely had time to step back before she was thrown to the other side of the graveyard.

Dean flew to her, watching with calm satisfaction as she curled into herself and coughed up a mouthful of blood, wings quivering in agony, the tips of her feathers withering inwards as they burned.

Stepping around her, twirling Michael's blade in his hand almost nonchalantly, he hovered over her, waiting for her agonized eyes to meet his, "That was for Gabriel."

Raphael's wings shivered as she understood his intentions, and she tried uselessly to crawl away from him. Dean raised his eyebrows, almost amused, before crouching down beside her and placing the tip of his sword over her shoulder, more or less where Sam had been hurt.

Dean absently thought back to his years in Hell, and found that he couldn't bring himself to give a shit about his humanity as he slowly pushed the blade into the archangel's shoulder. Raphael grunted, her true voice leaking through her whimpers as grace oozed around the silvery blade.

"This is for Sam," he growled in a low voice, relishing on the terror he read in her eyes. He yanked the sword out of her shoulder, her screech of pain a taste of divine retribution for the pain the bitch had put his family through.

He stood up, looking down as she writhed in agony, still trying to get away from him, but her wings were too scorched for her to escape him. Calmly, he lifted his boot to press it down on her neck.

"This is for Mel."

Raphael was trying to say something, her voice coming out in strangled breaths, as her hands held on to his ankle, helplessly, _weakly_.

Arching his eyebrows, Dean tilted his head, "I'm sorry, what was that?" he eased the pressure on her neck slightly, just enough for her to choke out,

"_M-Mic—Michael!" _she begged, _"Please."_

Dean smiled, and his eyes appeared to soften as he moved his foot from the archangel. He drank from the hope in her eyes greedily, stepping back to raise a hand. Raphael was lifted off the ground, held just above the grass by Dean's grace, her burnt wings shivering behind her.

His smile morphed into a snarl, his eyes cold and half-hooded as he stood in front of her. "I'm not Michael." His new angelic voice vibrated in the air, "You're not my brother." Raphael was shaking like a leaf at this point, her grace contracting as though to hide away from him. Dean brought his blade to his mouth, his eyes never leaving Raphael's as he lapped her blood from the sword.

The archangel's eyes widened, and she flinched as Dean made a face and spat her blood on her face. "And I don't owe you any mercy."

Raphael writhed, trying to get away from him, but Dean barely gave her time to summon her grace as he brusquely shoved Michael's blade into her heart.

She gaped, a scream held captive in her throat as grace burned her vessel from the inside out. Light exploded from Raphael, and Dean shoved her to the ground, watching numbly as her wings scorched their remains on the grass.

Feeling his grace retreat back to his soul, Dean greeted his humanity back to his mind as he stared down at Raphael's dead, empty vessel. Breathing harshly, Dean waited to catch his breath before panting,

"That was for Cas, you bitch."


	20. Images of Sound

**A.N. **_Sorry I took so long! I've been gone for a couple weeks so I couldn't write the chapter, but now I'm back! And it looks like there's maybe only a couple more chapters left before this fic is over! I hope you guys still like it._

**_Disclaimer: _**_I wish._

* * *

Dean sat alone on top of the tallest pile of dead cars in Bobby's junkyard, nursing a half-empty bottle of whiskey as he glared at the sunrise. What right had the sun to shine like nothing had happened anyway?

_Not like Cas can see it anymore…_

He closed his eyes at the thought, pulling his head back to take two long swigs of whiskey.

It had been over a week since he'd killed Raphael. A week since they'd managed to stop the Apocalypse from happening again.

A week since Castiel had lost his eyesight in giving Dean what was left of his grace.

Of course, Dean knew that giving his grace away was what had saved Castiel's life in the first place. But now he was _human_. Human and _blind_ and how the fuck was that fair? Why couldn't they ever win without losing something on the way?

Gabriel had explained it to him, why Cas had ended up blind. Because it could be said that Dean had been short of throwing a minor tantrum when he'd found out. It hadn't even occurred to him that something like that could happen. He'd figured maybe Cas wouldn't be perfectly okay after that chest wound, if Miel didn't manage to heal him completely…but _blind?_

* * *

"_Why?" Dean's voice broke, and he couldn't have cared less, because he needed to know. He needed to know why Cas was just sitting there looking in his general direction with unseeing blue eyes. Dean could barely bring himself to look at his face without feeling a tug at his heart that hurt him more than he thought it should._

_Gabriel turned sad golden eyes to him before clasping his shoulder and taking him farther away from Cas, his brother and Miel. Out of earshot. _

_Away from Castiel's _human _ears._

"_When an angel dies within their vessel," Gabriel started, looking back at his blind brother, "their grace burns it from the inside out." _

"_But they—they always look normal." He protested, "_Peaceful, _if anything."_

_Gabriel sighed, "That's because the light burns out before it has a chance to scorch the outside of the vessel. It comes out from their mouth, their nose, their—"_

"_Their eyes." Dean finished for him, looking away to run a hand down his face._

"_Exactly." The archangel's eyes were on him again, but Dean couldn't bear to look at him at the moment, "Castiel's grace was already leaving his vessel. He had little control over where he could send it, or he wouldn't have had to give it to you mouth to mouth."_

_Dean swallowed thickly, "That's why you covered his eyes," he choked._

"_Yeah," Gabriel's voice was tired, a sadness beyond anything he'd heard screaming from the heart of his grace. _

_A grace Cas didn't have anymore._

_A grace that had stolen his eyesight as a parting gift._

"_The light that tried to escape through his eyes probably damaged his retinas before he even managed to give it to you."_

"_Can't you heal it? Can't _Mel _heal it?" he pressed. There had to be another way. Cas couldn't end up _blind_._

_Gabriel shook his head, and Dean could see the same frustration he felt in his expression, "His grace did that to him. It's not anything that any of us has the juice to heal." He paused, "Dad's the only one that can heal those kinds of wounds."_

_Of course. Deadbeat Daddy._

_Dean didn't say anything. He looked over at Castiel, still unable to glance at his unseeing eyes without breaking, and his eyes met with Sam's. His brother was looking at him with the same sadness and anger that dueled within Dean. _

"_It's not your fault, Dean." Gabriel uttered before flying back to his younger siblings._

* * *

Dean huffed bitterly, bringing the bottle back to his lips, "Not my fault, my ass." The last sips of whiskey travelled too easily down his throat. Not burning enough. And Dean glared at the empty bottle before throwing it against a near pile of junk, staring numbly as the glass shattered to pieces, shards of glass glistening with the setting sun as they rained down on the dirt.

So much for being a dick with wings now. Couldn't even get drunk when he wanted to.

Hell, the one good thing that might have come out of his upgrade to full angel was that he didn't need to eat or sleep anymore. And sure, maybe it didn't count as a _good _thing (in Sam's eyes), but now Dean didn't have to sneak into the house every time hunger bit him, or because he got too cold, or too tired. He could just block everyone out and 'mope outside' as Bobby had so graciously put it before kicking him out of the house when he'd made it clear that he wasn't going to talk to Cas.

Yeah.

He hadn't talked to Castiel.

Not in a week.

Not since they'd come back from that graveyard.

Not since Dean had looked at Castiel and found the blame or bitterness he'd expected [hoped] to see in the ang—man's eyes missing.

* * *

_To say Dean had fallen from on high when he'd flown back to the others after defeating Raphael and found his best friend staring blindly in front of him would be a fucking understatement. Sam looked at least ten years younger as he looked up at him with his face red, and his eyes puffy as he tried not to cry. For Castiel's sake—Dean knew. He didn't mention the way Sam was gripping Cas' hand with such desperate strength that it had to be bruising for Castiel's now human hands._

_Miel looked pale, the brightness she'd shown right before he'd left them to take on their older brother gone like it had never been there to begin with. She sat behind Castiel, serving as a support for the ang—_man,_ who looked like he was barely able to stay seated on his own. And had Dean taken more time to look at her, he would have seen the dark circles that were slowly but surely appearing under her eyes. The way her wings quivered with something other than sorrow. _

_But Castiel was looking at him now. Or _past_ him. And the pale hand that Gabriel had been cradling to his chest like it was something precious left the archangel to search the air for him. _

"_Dean," he sounded tired, and God, but of course he did. But that wasn't what made Dean's eyes burn._

_He sounded so certain, so damn _glad_ that it was _Dean _standing right in front of him. Looking up with eyes that seemed lighter in their blindness, but with the same warmth he had seen in them before the fight still clearly there. _

_Dean tried to swallow the knot strangling his voice into silence, "Cas," he wasn't even certain if he'd managed to utter a sound, but Castiel gave him that little smile, tentative hand still outstretched towards him. And Dean's knees finally gave in, his wings a trembling, heavy weight on his back as Dean kneeled beside Castiel, taking the space Gabriel had left upon standing._

_He closed his eyes as gentle fingers touched his forehead, a gesture Dean knew was meant as absolution for whatever blame Dean thought he had for Castiel's blindness, and Dean shook his head, taking Cas' hand in his, pulling it away from his forehead. _

_Castiel had that look of exasperation that had so often marred his brow since he'd joined Sam and Dean in their fight against destiny. "Dean—" he started, but the hunter shook his head yet again, despite knowing that Castiel couldn't see him, and forced himself to interrupt him._

"_I'm sorry," he choked out, because no matter what Cas thought, this was Dean's fault. "Cas, I'm—I'm so sorry." _

* * *

After that, Gabriel and Dean had had their little talk, and then Dean had refused to talk to anyone other than to mutter, "Let's go home."

Balthazar's eyes had widened with such _worry_ in them that Dean would have laughed if he'd had it in him to laugh about anything. And of course there'd been that look. That _glare_ he'd turned in Dean's direction before helping Castiel away from Sam's towering frame and towards Bobby's old sofa.

Miel had practically collapsed on arriving, which was probably the only reason Elijah hadn't brought down all of his holy-trickster wrath on him. _Small mercies_, he thought bitterly. Miel's health had only worsened since they'd come back. She'd witnessed too much death between her siblings, Gabriel had been hurt, Cas had almost been killed, and he wasn't even an angel anymore. Oh. And he was blind. Let's not forget about that. In the aftermath of the battle, sadness and sorrow had attacked Miel's fragile heart and weakened her day by day.

Dean had spent the following three days watching sullenly as Cas struggled to accomplish the most basic human activities with the added handicap of his blindness. It hurt to see him walk to the bathroom with his arm linked to Sam's so that he didn't run into the fucking wall on the way; it _hurt_ to watch as his hands felt the kitchen tabletop tentatively for his glass of water or cup of coffee.

It _hurt_.

And Dean had tried a hundred times to talk to him. He had. But one look at those unseeing eyes and he just…bailed. Zapped away. And as annoying as he'd found it when Cas did that before, he couldn't blame the guy for escaping uncomfortable situations that way anymore.

Because Dean was the biggest hypocrite on the planet, apparently.

* * *

As he walked into the spare room, he saw that Castiel had not yet moved from his spot on the armchair by the bed.

"Hey Cas." Sam closed the door as quietly as he could with the tray in his arms.

"Hello Sam." Castiel answered, looking up from his lap, eyes seemingly gazing past his as he made his way to the bed and sat carefully on the edge of the mattress.

He looked so different, dressed in dark jeans and one of the plain dark blue shirts that Gabriel had brought for him, now that he couldn't angel-clean his old suit. The shirt had been ruined anyway, and the bloodied trench coat had been washed and hung over one of the chairs downstairs.

"I brought you some lunch." He offered gently.

"I know," And the ex-angel's lips quirked slightly upward in light amusement.

Sam found himself smiling back, letting out a sheepish chuckle, "Yeah, I guess you could smell it."

"The scent of Bobby's cooking is…" Castiel tilted his head as he searched for the word, "Strong."

"That it is," Sam agreed with an easy smile, one that faded as he gazed at the sleeping figure on the bed. "How's she doing?"

The light humor in Castiel's eyes disappeared as well, and his left hand reached carefully for Miel's smaller one. Long fingers curled delicately around the young angel's, and Sam's heart clenched with sadness at the sorrow he could see in Castiel.

"Her nightmares are getting worse. She still feels too hot to the touch, and her breath catches from time to time. It's too shallow." Castiel's brow furrowed in a worried frown, "She said Lucifer's name today."

Sam turned his eyes to the angel, pale and feverish, her breathing ragged. "She misses him." He was certain of it. He'd seen the way she'd looked at him when Lucifer's reflection had started becoming more noticeable inside him.

Castiel nodded sadly, "They were close." His hand squeezed Miel's before travelling up to her face, pushing damp hair from her sweaty forehead. "His banishment hurt her greatly."

It was still so weird to think that Cas had always been an older brother to Miel. To Eli. The thought that the angels were once more like family than soldiers lightened up a burden in Sam's chest though. At least at one point, the angels he'd believed in, the ones he'd prayed to, had really existed.

"Did she get sick when—" he hesitated, searching Cas' face for any hint that he was overstepping his boundaries, but Castiel just nodded again.

"It was the first time anything like that ever happened. No one was really sure what to do." He admitted quietly, "Raphael was very frustrated with himself, his knowledge wasn't enough to heal her. Believe it or not, he was the…strongest healer amongst the Host."

Sam frowned, wrinkling his thought slightly at the thought, "Huh. Never would have pegged him for a doctor."

Castiel sighed heavily, "Yes, well," he looked up at the ceiling, a gesture Sam had gotten used to see whenever Cas was frustrated, "You could say time has changed him. The archangels and the angels leading our garrisons were the most affected by the fall of Lucifer and his followers."

Silence fell heavily over the room, and Sam turned his eyes back to the sick angel. He watched her chest rise and fall with every ragged breath that left her lips. A sudden thought struck him, "Who healed her?" he turned to Cas, who appeared surprised by the question, "The first time she got sick," he pressed, "Who healed her?"

Cas gaped briefly, his mouth opening and closing before he turned away from him, as though he could feel Sam's eyes on him. "I heard it was God," he answered meekly. "I wasn't allowed to see her until she got better."

"Wow, that's…" Sam swallowed, suddenly feeling guilty for asking, "That's terrible, I'm sorry."

Castiel merely shook his head, forcing a small smile. He did that a lot lately. Smile. Even though some of them were starting to be less genuine than Sam would have ever liked seeing from Cas. While smiling wasn't something Cas used to do often, Sam could be certain before that, when he did, it was honest. Now there was a more human quality to all of his expressions. His face wasn't as unreadable as it had been before.

Sam blinked as Cas stood from his seat, walking slowly but confidently towards the door. It amazed Sam, how fast Castiel had managed to make his way around the house without constant help. He'd asked him once, and Cas had said he could still feel _echoes_. He hadn't elaborated, and Sam had felt it wasn't his place to press.

But Sam followed easily after Cas, still carrying the tray of food that was most likely cold by now. As they reached the stairs, Sam _did _have to give Cas a hand going down, and the dish and glass on the tray cluttered dangerously on his free arm.

Once they reached the living room, Castiel moved slowly towards the sofa, but stopped as he walked in front of the window and tilted his head. A moment passed before his brow furrowed and he looked down.

"Dean hasn't come back yet." It wasn't a question, and Sam watched sadly as the former angel's shoulders sagged slightly. He looked smaller without the trench coat. More vulnerable. And he was starting to lose weight, which Sam had noticed and found himself constantly worried about.

_Goddamnit, Dean._

"Elijah."

The little angel appeared in front of Castiel almost before he finished uttering his name.

It was disturbing, almost, the darkness in Eli's eyes as of late. The laughing, joking child he'd been not two weeks ago had been replaced by a soldier. The youngest angel of Heaven, taking on the burden of caring for his blind, fallen brother, and his sick sister, not allowing himself time to grieve. It was heartbreaking. Sam almost missed the ice cream in his pants. Elijah standing there all serious and mature was just…wrong.

Light blue eyes looked up at Castiel, brightening slightly at the thought of being of help to his brother. "Yes?"

Castiel smiled warmly, but there was sadness in the softening of his eyes, and Sam could only guess Cas was thinking the same things he was, "How are Lisa and Ben?"

The little angel grimaced slightly, "They've been asking about Dean. And Melly. They want to know what's going on."

Castiel nodded, heaving a tired sigh before offering another kind smile to his younger brother. A lean hand moved to the top of the boy's head, "Don't worry, you're doing well." And it seemed like a weight was lifted from the angel's shoulders, "Tell them he's okay, that he should be able to go to them soon."

Elijah's eyes widened slightly at this, a kindle of hope shining in his grace, and Sam arched his eyebrows.

Huh?

Castiel must have felt their surprise, and chuckled quietly, actually ruffling the little angel's hair before letting his hand fall at his side, "Go. Hopefully they'll be reassured by the news."

Eli nodded obediently and disappeared with the flapping of wings. Castiel's eyes were glazed with nostalgia for a brief moment, but then he blinked, and it was like everything was all right again. Sam worried his lip at the thought that Cas would eventually break down under the pressure. Bobby had already mentioned that the former angel was taking everything almost too well. But both hunters knew it could only be for their sakes that Cas wasn't allowing himself to wallow in self-pity.

"Sam?" The hunter startled, putting the tray of cold food on the desk before quickly walking over to Castiel.

"Yeah, Cas, what is it?" he asked, blinking maybe one too many times and shaking his head to wake himself up. He hadn't slept much since they'd made it back from Stull Cemetery. And, unlike Dean, he still needed to sleep and eat like a normal person.

Castiel smiled, teeth showing slightly from between his lips—and Sam found he actually liked to see Cas smile, it calmed him down—as though the hunter had said something funny.

"You should rest."

Sam blinked.

"Uh…what?"

Okay, maybe he should have seen that coming. Cas wasn't an idiot, in fact he was scarily perceptive as of late.

"You're tired." Castiel continued, and as though to prove it, he lifted a hand, and Sam was too stunned to do anything as gentle fingers touched carefully under his eyes. Cas nodded, "Get some sleep."

"Um…Are you sure?" Cas huffed, "I mean, should I call Gabriel? Or Balthazar? Bobby should be back in a few hours; maybe I could wait until then an—" the hand under his eyes moved down to cover his mouth. And it figures that Cas would ignore personal space boundaries even more now that he was blind, he thought with fond amusement.

"You talk too much," he chided lightly, a smile still in his eyes "Gabriel and Balthazar are busy, it will take time to bring order back to Heaven, they shouldn't be bothered." Sam was going to open his mouth again but Cas merely pressed his hand harder, "And _Bobby_ will get here when he gets here. I'm sure I'll be fine on my own until then." He narrowed his eyes, something he hadn't stopped doing despite losing his sight, "Go to sleep."

Sam stepped away with a chuckle, feeling lighter than he had just moments ago, and just how sad was it that a blind new human was the taking care of him and trying to cheer him up. "Okay, okay, I get it."

Castiel nodded, satisfied, and Sam retreated towards the spare room, looking back over his shoulder he watched as Cas moved to sit on the sofa, "Are you sure you—"

"Sam."

"Going to bed now."

* * *

Castiel waited until he couldn't hear Sam's heavy, tired footsteps before sinking into the couch with a sigh. With a shaky hand, he rubbed his forehead and pulled his hair back. He knew it was going to start getting longer, could almost feel it grow whenever his hair tickled his forehead.

His hand traveled down to his stubbled cheek. It was scruffier than he'd ever felt it before. He wasn't sure what to feel about that. Sam had told him that he'd help him shave, and Castiel had just nodded in agreement.

He couldn't imagine what he looked like. For a moment he wished he could look at himself in the mirror and see for himself. Castiel didn't remember ever seeing Dean or Sam let their beards grow more than maybe a couple days worth of stubble.

It itched.

He let his hand fall to his lap, listening in for the sound of winter cooling the windows with its breath.

It was interesting. When he'd started falling, over a year ago, Castiel had mourned the fading voices of his siblings. The human world seemed so silent; so _lonely_ without them.

Now, however, as he sat in complete darkness, he found himself surrounded by sounds.

The old house was practically alive; it groaned with strong winds, it creaked under heavy weight.

Sam was _loud_ in his worry. His breathing, his movement, his footsteps…they all betrayed his feelings. His expressions. Castiel could almost imagine the pinched look on his face whenever he struggled to say something out of concern, while worrying at the same time that he would overwhelm Castiel with his hovering. It was amusing to him at times, to listen to his inner struggle.

Bobby's concern was harder to detect. Castiel was grateful to the old hunter for trying to treat him as he always had. For not coddling him. But the former angel could hear the gentling of his voice when he got lost on his way to the kitchen, the catch of his breath when he staggered over the fold of the carpet.

And Dean…

Dean had avoided him since they'd made it back from Stull Cemetery.

Castiel had felt his eyes on him, during the first days, when noise seemed to come from every direction at the same time, overwhelming and disorienting in the most frustrating and disheartening of ways. When he'd struggled to take reign of new, conflicting emotions that had been much easier to hide, once upon a time.

He'd been sitting alone on the sofa, on the fourth day, when Dean's heavy, hesitant footsteps had stopped on the doorway. Castiel had looked up from his lap, waiting, hoping to hear him say something; anything. He had practically felt Dean's doubts attack him again, and had known he was about to leave.

He had acted on impulse.

Standing maybe too fast, Castiel had tried walking in the direction of Dean's breathing, but he'd forgotten that Sam and Bobby had been researching in the living room not half an hour before, and Sam's pile of books had been by the couch, as he'd sat next to Castiel.

He'd tripped, and a loud thud echoed all over the old house, blunt pain making him grimace as he fell on his side. Hurried steps and worried yells had already been echoing from the panic room by the time he'd heard Dean's breath hitch as he took an instinctive step towards him, and then the familiar flutter of wings as the hunter disappeared.

The pain that had constricted his chest then, had had nothing to do with the fall.

Heaving yet another sigh, Castiel steeled his flaking resolve before standing from the sofa. Miel was getting worse, and Castiel worried that if nothing eased her sorrows, his sister would die of sadness. Dean might not be willing to talk to him again, but Castiel had a slight suspicion that the hunter's absence was one of the things paining Miel the most at the moment. He was willing to be avoided for the rest of his mortal life, if Dean truly couldn't find it in himself to look at him again, but Castiel would not let his sister's light fade away when the preemption of her death could very well have been sitting outside for days now.

He could be stubborn too.

Taking a long breath, he counted his steps to the right and felt for the chair by the couch, his fingers trailing along the wooden back until they came against his old trench coat.

Being human meant he could feel cold now. And Castiel had found out on his first trip outside [with an overly concerned Sam] that he most certainly _didn't_ like the cold. In fact, he was very sure he hated it.

Unfortunately, he didn't own any other coats, and he feared that going back to his room to fetch warmer clothes would take too long. He couldn't risk losing his confidence. This would be the first time he ventured outside on his own, and Castiel could already feel the fear of getting lost without the familiar creeks and groans of Bobby's house gnawing at his stomach.

Putting on the trench coat gave him some courage, and he felt more himself with his old tan shield over his narrow frame. He took a shuddering breath and straightened the coat carefully over his shoulders.

Not trusting himself to think about it too much and still get it done, Castiel walked slowly towards the front door, his hand caressing the old walls to reassure himself of his direction.

The metallic knob was cold to the touch, but Castiel barely allowed himself time to hesitate before turning it and carefully pulling the door open. The bite of winter made him gasp as the wind sneaked through the protective layers of his clothes and immediately froze him to his core.

He shivered, but took a couple steps outside and closed the door carefully behind him, not wanting to warn Sam of his leave. Swallowing the overwhelming disorientation that came with the lack of walls to guide him, Castiel reached for the handrail by the steps that led down from the porch.

Once he felt the crunch of dirt under his shoes, he stopped.

The sounds of the house might not be able to guide him anymore, but maybe if he listened, if he waited, he'd hear the wind play with Dean's new wings.

The whistling of cold air dancing between the metallic corpses of abandoned cars was as good a hint as any, and so Castiel set out slowly towards the first pile of dead metal that he'd come across.

His fingers were careful as they found the rusty surface of the first car; he knew no good would come out of cutting himself with rusted metal when he was by himself. Taking a steadying breath, he tilted his head in search for other sounds that might give Dean's position away. A sudden gust of wind made him try to set his feet firmly on the ground, but his concern for his balance disappeared with the sound of glass skittering across the dirt floor.

It would be like Dean to be drinking outside. Castiel could almost picture him throwing the bottle away once he'd realized the burning substance was gone.

With new resolve, Castiel kept tentative fingers close to the dead metal as he walked towards the sound of shattered glass.

* * *

Dean was almost contemplating crashing a few cars and making some noise to vent his anger the old-fashioned Winchester way when he heard the uncertain but unrelenting scuffling of shoes against dirt.

He frowned.

That couldn't be Sam. His little brother's steps were heavier and longer in between, with those kilometric legs of his.

Couldn't be Bobby either. The old hunter's steps were more certain, he knew the whole freaking property like the back of his hand for Christ's sakes.

The angels were out. Miel was sick. So that only left—

"Dean?" he flinched.

Of course, leave it to Cas to come looking for him and probably get lost in the junkyard in the process. Although the fact that he'd come this close to finding him was nothing short of impressive. Had it only been a few days since Cas had tripped right in front of him?

_Cas has always known how to find me, the stubborn idiot._

Dean stayed stone still. Cas may have come close, but that didn't mean Dean was ready to face him. He watched with his jaw clenched tight as Cas staggered slightly on a broken piece of engine. Something sank inside him as he saw the fear of falling flash on Cas' face for a moment before he closed his eyes.

He looked like a combination of his older self, and the one he'd seen in the future. His jeans and his shirt too similar to the ones that hippie version of Cas had been wearing, his dark scruff all to reminiscing of they way it had looked on him with those wide, desperate smiles, and red-rimmed eyes. Dean's only relief was that he was still wearing that stupid trench coat.

Castiel stopped, bringing his cold hands close to his face to blow his hot breath onto them.

Cas was cold.

Of course he was freaking cold, it was twenty degrees outside. Guilt struck him again as the former angel tugged his old trench coat tighter around him, his breath coming out in white puffs of air.

"Dean, we need to talk." He stiffened, fearing for a moment that Cas knew he was there. For a moment forgetting that he couldn't be seen.

Castiel's eyes looked straight in front of him, narrowing whenever the wind blew dirt into his face. He kept a hand constantly grazing the dead piles of rusty cars, walking slowly through the maze, trying to find Dean.

"Dean," his voice tightened, "Please, it's—you don't have to talk to me," but Dean could see the hurt in his face, could hear the pain in his voice, "You can avoid me, I won't search for you again, but—" Cas had never sounded this desperate, and it hadn't escaped to the hunter how the former angel was looking upwards now. Like he was praying. "It's Miel, she's—" he breathed, "Dean, she's dying."

_What?_

"I know it's hard to believe but—" and of course Cas didn't know that Miel had already told him about her weakness already, "Sadness weakens her. She's seen too much death and with my—" blindness, "She's seen too much. She's felt too much and now…I'm afraid my condition isn't helping matters, but I think she knows you're not there." Dean rubbed his face, "Dean, _please_. If you just go see her…maybe she'll wake up."

_Wait. She's not awake?_

"I won't search for you again," he heard Castiel promise quietly under his breath.

Dean hesitated, Castiel wouldn't have risked getting lost outside on his own unless he really thought Dean was the only way of helping her. As he deliberated whether he should tell Cas to go inside or just fly to her room, he saw Cas' touch falter against an unstable pile of cars, making it teeter back and forth over Castiel's small frame.

He could see Castiel frown at the screech of rusted metal on metal, the groan of the cars as they moved. Then the color drained from his face and Dean felt his own heart stop as two heavy cars enveloped Castiel in shadow as they fell towards him.

"CAS!"

* * *

Sam jerked awake with a gasp.

He'd fallen asleep.

_He'd fallen asleep._

Damn it, he'd fallen asleep.

He stumbled out of bed, tripping on the blankets and almost falling on his face on his way out of the room. Just how long had he been out? He'd only been planning on taking a nap, and then check on Cas and make sure he actually ate his lunch this time because—focus, damn it, focuse.

"Cas?" he called, the name echoing inside the old house. Maybe he'd fallen asleep?

_Way to go, Sam. God knows Cas doesn't get enough sleep lately._

He shook his head and ran up to Miel's room. The angel seemed to have gotten even paler since he'd seen her just hours before. He bit his lip and closed the door quietly.

Cas wasn't there.

He went downstairs to what had become the angel's room.

Empty.

Starting to get worried, he hurried to the living room only to find that Castiel wasn't there either.

Then he stopped. His eyes were drawn to the old chair by the sofa, and his stomach sank; a sudden realization leaving him cold.

The trench coat was missing.

"Shit," he hissed, running towards the front door, thinking of his friend walking outside on his own, maybe getting lost, all because Sam had overslept. "Cas!" he yelled as he wrenched the door open.

As he ran through the maze of cars, the groan of metal moving made him freeze on the spot. He heard his brother's voice, the alarm in it making the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

"CAS!"

Then the deafening sound of what could only be cars crashing down on the ground echoed around the junkyard.

"No! No, no, no, no, no," he kept mumbling under his breath as he ran (perhaps faster than any human should be able) towards the noise.

_Please, Cas be okay._

* * *

Dean opened his eyes.

When he'd seen those cars fall towards Castiel he'd acted on instinct. Or his wings had.

Now he stood, just ten feet away from the fallen deathtraps of metal, still clutching Cas to him like maybe the cars would take life and try to hurt his friend again.

"Dean," Cas' voice was strained, like it was taking him a lot of effort to talk, and Dean looked down at him worriedly. There was no way he could've gotten hurt. Right? "Dean, you're strangling me."

Oh.

Feeling stupid, Dean loosened the circle of his arms, his hands still safely on Cas' shoulders, because he refused to let him get crushed by anything else anytime soon. "Sorry." He muttered, feeling his embarrassment turn to anger at Cas' recklessness, "What the hell did you think you were doing, walking around like that without Sam?"

"Looking for you," Cas snapped back, and Dean winced at his choice of words. Blue eyes glared in the general direction of his own, almost but not quite meeting them, "What did you think I was doing?"

"Being stupid, that's what." He grouched, "Cas, you can't just walk around like that anymore. You-"

"I am well aware of what I can and can't do anymore, Dean," Castiel replied, that frustrated, almost angry tone in his voice, "Maybe if you were hiding inside the house, I wouldn't have had to come out to find you."

Dean grimaced. Okay, he deserved that one.

"And you couldn't ask Sam to take a walk with you? Hell, you could have just asked him to find me." He pressed, not willing to give in.

"Sam is _tired_, Dean." Cas growled, "He's been taking care of me this whole week, he hasn't slept much." Dean clenched his jaw, he knew he'd been a selfish dick, but he'd hoped he wouldn't have to face the consequences of his stubbornness until later. "Besides, I didn't want to worry him with the truth about Miel's health." He added quietly.

Dean sighed, his eyes softening, "Alright. Alright, it's okay now, I'll go check on her, alright?" he said quietly, trying to meet Cas' eyes only to wince at the memory that he couldn't do that anymore. He looked away from his face and suddenly noticed that Cas' hands were shaking. He was probably freezing. He moved his hands to cover Castiel's without a second thought, "Jesus, you're freezing." He muttered. "Let's get you back inside, you idiot." Castiel's teeth chattered from the cold, but he glared half-heartedly at him before nodding.

He didn't even have time to picture the living room when Sam suddenly appeared in front of them, "Cas! You're here, thank G—I thought—Are you okay?" he stammered, puppy eyes full of worry.

"I'm fine, Sam." Cas replied with a smile, trying to keep his teeth from giving him away. And Dean raised his eyebrows at that. It wasn't that Cas didn't smile before, it was just…he'd never seen him smile so easily before. It was more…human.

"Good," Sam let out a breath of relief, "You almost gave me a heart attack," he muttered. Then hazel eyes met Dean's, and he could see the accusation in them for having to wait until Cas almost got killed before talking to him again.

"More talk later, Sam," he cut in, not quite meeting his brother's eyes, "Cas needs to get warmed up." And with that, and because he could, he flew Cas and himself to Bobby's house, leaving Sam out.

Castiel sighed as soon as they were inside, already feeling the warmth seep back into him, then frowned, "Where's Sam?"

"Oops," he shrugged, not giving Cas time to reply before guiding him to the sofa, "Come on, dude, I think that's enough excitement for you today." The former angel huffed, but allowed Dean to help him sit down.

Dean nodded and grabbed one of the blankets on the back of the couch and put it around Cas' shoulders. The gesture seemed to take Cas by surprise, something that made Dean's chest tighten with guilt again, but he didn't say anything.

He'd apologize later, first he needed to try to help Mel.

"Thank you." Cas said quietly, making Dean grimace.

"Don't mention it," he rubbed his friend's arms to try and make the heat come back to him faster, then stood back, "Sam should be back in a minute, I'm pretty sure he'll turn all mother hen on you and treat you to hot chocolate like the nice, loving Mommy that he is." He saw the corner of Cas' lips quirk up and considered it a victory, "I'm gonna…" he pointed upstairs, realizing too late that Cas couldn't see him. But Castiel just nodded like he could, and Dean could only guess he'd heard the sound of his jacket. With that, he opened his wings,

"I'm glad you got your…head out of your ass," Cas said suddenly, and Dean was too stunned to smile at the awkward pause in the middle of his words. He shook his head fondly.

"You've been spending too much time around Bobby, Cas."

He heard Sam staggering into the house out of breath and calling him a jerk before zapping away to Mel's room.


	21. New Soul

**A.N. **_I'm so sorry I've been gone! College started and I haven't really had time to write. I started this one a long time ago but I just couldn't sit down and finish it. And I didn't want to give you guys a short chapter, but this is all I could get out for this one._

**_Warnings_**_: Fluff for Dean and Mel. It's their special weird relationship, but don't worry, Dean and Cas will have lots of moments in the next chapter. In the meantime though, have some Sam and Cas bonding :)_

* * *

Dean stood for what felt like too long at the door, eyes focused on the sleeping angel in the bed. The room was deadly silent save for the shallow breathing coming from Miel's mouth.

If seeing Castiel stagger around the junkyard trying to find him had made guilt claw at him from the inside out, watching Mel's labored breathing made shame corrode him to his core.

How could he have stayed away for so long?

Heaving a tired sigh, he thought of what to say and how to wake the angel, since his arrival didn't seem to have disturbed her fitful sleep. Taking careful steps towards the bed, Dean found his eyes measuring every breath that left her lips, every rise and fall of her chest. Standing so close to her, Dean could feel the sadness that was slowly killing her from the inside. The worry. It made his grace shiver in his chest, and he blinked rapidly towards the ceiling before glancing away towards the armchair by the bed.

"Sleep watching…" A quiet voice made his eyes snap back to the still figure on the bed. Feverish blue meet green through the narrow slits of her eyes, and Dean's heart clenched at the warmth in the tired orbs staring back at him. "...Creepy."

"I hear it's all the rage among angels these days," he countered, his voice not as steady as he would have liked it to be.

Her lips quirked up in a tiny smile, and Dean tried to smile back before sitting carefully on the edge of the mattress.

"You're not looking too good," he croaked needlessly, his forced smile dying before ever truly making it to his lips.

Miel's eyes closed briefly, a small breath of a chuckle stuck in her chest, before blearily opening to look at him again.

"Missed you," she said, making Dean look away in shame. A small clammy hand touched his in a whisper of a caress. "You've been gone." Her clouded eyes asked the question that she couldn't seem to get out.

"Yeah, I've—" he bit his lip, "I've been a selfish dick, running away," he met her eyes again, "From you." He paused, swallowing the knot in his throat, "From Cas…"

"Misses you…too," she whispered, her pale fingers squeezing his hand weakly. Dean looked down at them and eased their hands into a better hold. "Feel it."

Dean nodded, "I know." He gave her a shaky smile, "Stupid idiot spent God knows how long out in the junkyard trying to find me."

She smiled, but remained silent this time. And Dean thought back to the desperation in Cas' voice when he'd begged him to see Miel and help her heal. And that was exactly what he was going to do. He'd messed up enough as it was.

"He thinks my little scene is one of the reasons why you're not getting better."

A small breath that could have been a laugh as much as a sob left her lips, and Dean tightened his hold on her hand.

"I'm not leaving again, Mel." He promised, "I'm staying. I'll talk to Cas; I'll help him adjust." She smiled at him with such sad pride that it made him search for anything else he could promise her, "I'll even kick Gabe and Balthazar's asses into gear so they come see you more often," She laughed then, quietly, weakly, but genuinely. "I'll do anything, Mel." He paused, "Ramiel." He begged, "You don't have to worry about the others, I'll take care of them, you just concentrate on getting better, okay?"

Because from the moment he'd entered the room, Dean could tell what was really keeping the young angel down.

It was _worry_.

Worry that Cas wasn't adapting well to his new humanity and blindness. Worry that Gabriel and Balthazar were working themselves to exhaustion upstairs. Worry that Elijah wasn't laughing and setting pranks like he should be doing. Worry that Sam would worry himself sick.

Worry that Dean would drown in his own self-induced guilt.

"You don't have to worry anymore," he assured her, watching as she tried to blink away tears that threatened to overwhelm her. "I'll take care of them now, Mel, it's okay."

Her shoulders were shaking in her attempt to keep quiet, but Dean could see her grace already lighting up as her load was put on someone else's shoulders. Her free hand searched weakly for him, and Dean immediately moved closer and lied down next to her. Putting his arm around her, he gently guided her close to him, whispering reassurances as she burrowed her face into his shoulder and cried. Her sobs dripped with unimaginable sorrow that made Dean's heart clench inside his ribcage.

Feeling the fondness that had invaded his soul since the first day he'd met her swell in response to her sadness, Dean placed his chin on her blond hair and covered her trembling frame with his wing.

* * *

Sam barged inside the living room to find Cas sitting alone on the sofa, trench coat still on and a blanket around his shoulders.

"Jesus," he muttered before quickly making his way to the angel, "What were you thinking, Cas? It's freezing out there, that trench coat barely keeps you warm."

Castiel 's eyes turned in his general direction, a soft sheepish smile on his face, "Sorry, Sam."

The young hunter sighed. He doubted the former angel was really sorry, and his little excursion out in the cold had finally gotten Dean back in the house, so he should really be grateful that the man had decided not to take Dean's crap anymore. "It's okay, Cas. It's just…you can get sick now. You need to think about these things."

A flash of sorrow in Cas' eyes made him wish he hadn't said anything. It would take some time for Cas to get used to his human vulnerability, and rubbing it in his face wouldn't help. But still, he couldn't go out in 10-degree weather with just that old trench coat.

"Look," he tried, softening his voice to the one he used when talking to victims in their hunts. Running a hand through his hair, he sat down next to the angel—and truly, Sam knew he would never be able to think of Cas as anything but. "It's probably time we got you your own clothes anyway," he tried to cheer him up a bit, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder, "We'll get you some decent coats, scarves, gloves...all the paraphernalia and we'll go out more often, alright?" Blue eyes focused on the sound of his voice, looking almost directly at his lips, "I know you're probably getting tired of being locked up in the house."

A smile quirked Cas' lips upwards, "Thank you, Sam." He said simply but with such genuine gratitude that Sam felt himself smile back.

"No problem, man." Just as he was going to suggest Cas took the coat off, he felt a shiver from the man's shoulders and frowned. Looking down at Cas' hands, he took one of them in his and made a face, "You're still freezing. Let me get you some more blankets and something warm, kay?" he offered, not really awaiting an answer as he stood from the sofa and went to get some more blankets.

Castiel's eyes were following his footsteps as he walked back in the room, a look of light amusement in their blue depths as he helped him out of his trench coat and proceeded to wrap him up in about three or four blankets.

The way Cas let himself be moved around and taken care of reminded him of a small child, and a fond smile tugged on the corner of Sam's lips as wide blue eyes followed every sound he made with truly childlike trust.

Once he was sure Cas was starting to warm up, he helped the angel—it would take some time before he got used to calling Cas human—to his feet and towards the kitchen, "Come on, let me make you some coffee or some chocolate maybe. Gabriel seems to like the sweet stuff better." There was a slightly secretive smile on Cas' lips that made him tilt his head a bit, but he simply put his hand on Cas' back and led him out of the living room, "Have you ever tried hot chocolate before, Cas?"

"No, I haven't. But Elijah and Gabriel seem very fond of it." He replied with one of his small smiles.

"I'm thinking it might be an angel thing," Sam mused, "You guys have a pretty big sweet tooth." Sam only realized his mistake after he'd said the last word, and he looked back at Cas to apologize only to see him nod, unaffected.

"It seems that way, yes."

Letting out a quiet sigh of relief, Sam stood close to Castiel as he freed one hand from the bundle of blankets wrapped around him to trace the tabletop and find a chair to sit on. Once he was seated, Sam went to the cabinets and took out a couple of mugs. Might as well make some hot chocolate for himself, it had been _years_ since the last time he'd had any.

"How about you then, Cas?" he asked as he set out to not destroy the kitchen. It had always been Dean who'd made chocolate for him when they were younger. "Have you tried any sweets you like?"

"I like pie." Cas answered, a quiet but childlike wonder in his voice that made Sam laugh. If only Dean could hear him now, he'd probably be congratulating Cas for his great taste.

Opening a cabinet, Sam barely had enough to time to keep the boxes of powdered cocoa from falling out, and he let out a surprised yelp as he tried to push them all back in.

"Sam?" Cas asked from his chair, a small frown on his brow.

"I'm okay," Sam breathed out a chuckle, taking out one of the boxes and setting it on the counter. "I think Gabe and Eli took it upon themselves to stock Bobby's kitchen with what they like." He grinned.

A quiet chuckle from Cas' direction made something lighten up in Sam's chest. Worry that the fallen angel would at any given moment break down had plagued his mind since they'd made it back home. Needless to say, any smile or laugh he could get out of Cas did wonders to sooth his concerns.

As he prepared the cocoa, Sam stared in awe as what had appeared to be pretty typical powdered chocolate solution that came in many cheap hotels become a rich thick chocolate that Sam imagined was worthy of the best places in Europe. He found himself lost in the sweet aroma, old dreams of traveling around the world coming back to him like a lazy memory.

He had to give it to Gabriel. He didn't settle for the cheap stuff.

Despite the authentic smell and texture of the chocolate, it was done surprisingly fast, which Sam attributed to Gabriel's dislike for waiting for his treats. Pouring the cocoa in two mugs, he made his way back to the table and placed one cup in front of Cas before settling down across from him.

Castiel took a slow breath, inhaling the sweet smell, and his eyes closed briefly, obviously liking it so far. Sam watched closely as tentative hands touched the mug before wrapping themselves around it, and Cas practically deflated as warmth seeped back into him.

Tilting his head, Cas slowly brought the mug to his lips, hesitating before taking a small sip. Sam grinned as his friend's blue eyes widened in delight at the taste that invaded his mouth. A smile, wide and genuine spread on Cas' face, unlike any he'd seen before, and it made Sam's grin widen even more.

"I like chocolate." He declared, and something in the finality of his voice made Sam laugh. He could see why Dean had found so much amusement in making their friend try new things.

"Glad to hear that," he chuckled, finally allowing himself to take a sip of his own mug.

Damn that was some good chocolate! He'd have to convince Gabriel to get some more for them; Dean would love this.

Castiel turned all his attention to his new favorite beverage, and they both settled into a comfortable silence. After a moment, Sam noticed that Cas had turned blind eyes up towards him.

"What? Done already?" he teased.

Cas' eyes softened, and Sam suddenly felt like a child. He'd heard Dean complain about the angels' tendency to do that to him, and couldn't help but stare at the former angel in wonder.

"Cas?"

"You're a good man, Sam." The hunter's eyes widened slightly, and he felt his heart freeze for a moment. "Your soul is still pure." Castiel assured him with a wisdom that could only come from an angel, with the certainty of someone who had seen inside him to his deepest core. Cas' eyes saddened as he added quietly, "I know you've been doubting it." Sam looked down, knowing it was true and feeling ashamed for it. But while Dean had been turned into an archangel that was the reflection of Michael; God's most loyal servant. Sam had gotten his power from his twisted link to Lucifer. Satan. The Devil.

"You shouldn't." Castiel stated firmly, driving Sam to look at him with hesitant hope. "Your new nature doesn't affect the goodness inside of you, Sam. In fact, the amount of love and kindness that remains despite the darkness your soul has been exposed to is astonishing."

Sam felt himself flush, knowing that Dean would have long ago mocked this as a chick-flick moment. But he couldn't deny that hearing the angel say this was like finally removing the thorn that had been stuck on his side since he'd given into Ruby's deception. Since he'd found out what Azazel had done to him. This was his redemption.

Finding it hard to speak, Sam swallowed the knot in his throat to look at the former angel, wondering if Cas knew how much he'd needed to hear those words, and just how grateful he was to have finally received them.

"Thank you."

Castiel merely smiled at him. That new smile that was so human and yet so like the friend he'd found in Castiel long ago. The former angel then went back to his chocolate like he hadn't just made years' worth of self-doubt and shame disappear with a few words. Sam smiled to himself and shook his head before turning his attention back to his own mug.

* * *

"He's not dealing with it." Miel whispered, and Dean blinked in confusion, glancing down at her as she breathed quietly into the crook of his neck.

"Who?"

"Cas." It might have been the first time he'd heard her use the ang—Castiel's nickname.

"You can tell?" he asked gently. If he was honest with himself, Dean had been too ashamed of having spent so long away to take a really good look at Cas' soul.

"His soul is…new." She sighed. She sounded better than she had an hour ago already, something that allowed Dean to breathe more easily. "Almost like a child's." And the image of a toddler with unruly black hair and big blue eyes inevitably took over his mind. "He can mask his face…although not as well as before." She paused to take a breath, "But not his soul." Dean frowned worriedly, cursing himself for not paying attention, "He hasn't learned how…yet."

"You know I'll do anything to help him, right?" he shifted slightly, securing his hold and placing his chin on he top of her blond hair.

"I know." He could hear the smile in her voice, "But I'm not sure he realizes…what a toll this is taking on him."

"You think he'll let me in?" he asked suddenly, the thought that maybe Cas won't allow him to get close enough to help him making his grace clench with worry.

"He's probably…already forgiven you, Dean." She replied, and Dean knew this had been a cause of frustration for her before they met.

"Maybe he shouldn't." The amount of times Cas had forgiven his behavior towards him was something Dean would never understand. Even Sam, who while in the end always came around, had a limit to how much of his dick-moods he could stand. But Cas had never seemed to be too bothered by it, except on the few occasions when Dean's harsh words had actually caught him by surprise, enough that he'd managed to catch a flinch or a flash of hurt in the angel's eyes. Maybe Dean had taken advantage of that and turned his frustrations on Cas more often than he should have.

"Maybe." Mel agreed quietly, and Dean had to wonder what it must have been like for her to watch from afar as her brother's sacrifices went by with barely any appreciation from his charge.

"Did you ever…" he paused, not knowing if he had any right to ask this. But Mel's grace was reaching towards his in askance, and her head tilted slightly upwards so that she could look at him, "Did you ever try to help him? Did you think about joining him?"

Miel didn't say anything for a long time, her blue eyes examining his carefully before she sighed sadly and burrowed against his shoulder again. "He came to talk to me," she said quietly, "Before he decided to help you."

Dean remembered that moment. He'd practically given the angel an ultimatum and slammed the door in his face at the first hint of hesitation. He winced at how insensitive he'd been. Decisions like that had always been a given to him, he never had to think between saving people or stepping back. But he'd forgotten that Castiel's superiors were also his family, and the fact that he'd thrown it in his face that he couldn't choose immediately between complete strangers that weren't even of the same species as him and the siblings he'd known his entire existence, when Dean knew that he himself would have struggled at the mere thought of choosing someone else over Sam, made him curse the way he'd practically guilt-tripped the angel into helping him.

To say Dean had been surprised when the angel that had pleaded for him to understand before disappearing had come back with a look of fierce determination for his cause was to put it mildly.

"What did he say?" he asked, wondering if Mel had been the one to finally convince Cas to join their side.

"He explained to me what Zachariah was planning." She hadn't known. Of course she hadn't, how could she when Cas had been taken away before he could tell him after he himself had found out? "I was…" she let out a breath of laughter, "Well, I was _angry_." Dean tightened his hold on her, pressing his cheek against her hair, "They'd told us that they were working to protect the seals against the demons and—" she shook her head, "Castiel had been so worried." Dean frowned, "He kept coming to see me to tell me about their process, and it seemed like the demons were always two steps ahead of us. Castiel didn't understand how that could happen," she sighed, "And honestly, I didn't either."

Dean remembered how sure Cas had always seemed, how _intimidating_ his confidence in their success over Hell and the orders that seemed to come from nowhere had been.

"He told me about you, you know?" He could hear the mix of sadness and amusement in her voice and tried to coax her grace into lighting up again with his own. He couldn't let her get sad, not when she was already making progress.

"I'm sure he didn't say a lot of nice things," he guessed with a small grin. He'd made a point out of being difficult back when they'd first met.

She laughed quietly, "Not very many, no," he chuckled, "At least after he first met you. He kept telling me how frustrating you were." Dean grinned.

"I'm good at that." He boasted, making her giggle.

"You really are." She sighed, "Then the complaints came less frequently and instead came the questions." Dean frowned, "You were so confusing, you were like a walking paradox. The Righteous Man, so full of anger and mockery and disrespect," he huffed, "And yet…your soul bursting with such fierce love for your brother and a truly innate and genuine desire to save others. People you hadn't even met." Dean fidgeted slightly; uncomfortable at the way she was describing him.

"Believe it or not," she interrupted his discomfort, "I actually wanted to meet you."

He chuckled, "Really? I thought I was an inconsiderate dick."

"You are." She assured him, pulling a laugh out of him, "But that's only one side of you. And you'd gotten to Castiel in a way that no one had in a long time." Her voice took an air of nostalgia, "He'd become very quiet, over the centuries." She mused, "After Gabriel left, there was no one to stop the brunt of Raphael's discipline, and he was always so much more strict with Castiel than the rest of us. He became even more of a soldier than what was expected of the others. Following orders without question or thought." There was anger in her grace. At Raphael, at Zachariah. "But then he met you," Her wings brushed against his, "And it was like the curiosity and the questions and the warmth had all come back."

She paused, "So I guess I should thank you for that."

Dean smiled sadly, "Glad I got something right." They stayed quiet for a moment, "What did you say to him? When he came to see you before he helped me."

"He was really hurt and torn by what you'd said to him," he winced slightly at the accusation in her voice, "But I realized then that your opinion mattered a lot to him," Dean had realized that, on more than one occasion, and couldn't help but to think he wasn't worthy of it, and that he shouldn't have used it to his advantage so many times, "And that he really did agree with your cause." She heaved a breath, "So I told him that he should do what he thought was right. Regardless of what his orders were. And that if he decided to help you I would support him as much as I could." She curled up closer to him, muttering quietly, "Which wasn't much."

He brushed her wings, "It was."

She burrowed closer to his side. Dean still couldn't understand how she could love him so much when it was clear that he'd hurt Cas—and by extension _her_—so much over the few years that he'd come to know his ang—friend.

"Why don't you hate me?" he asked quietly. She looked up then, leaning on one of her elbow—and Dean was so glad that she was already strong enough to do that, "I mean after everything Cas went through because of me. I've hurt him, Mel. I've hurt him so many times and he never really left me. I don't deserve that."

"You know, I think I know why he loves you," and Dean couldn't help but glance away from her watchful eyes at that word. That _word_. "Despite everything you've done to help people. To save the _world_." She smiled sadly, "You still don't think you deserve to be saved."

The familiar words brought him back to that night. The night when Cas walked into his life in a rain of sparks and thunder and looked right into him. Read him like no one had done in years. With just one _look_. And Cas just _knew_ him. And Dean had to smile at the thought that someone who had read the part of himself that he'd always tried so hard to hide so easily could at the same time be so confused by everything else he did or said.

"That's cheating, you know." He poked her side, making her smile widen. It still amazed Dean how she could remind him so much of his mother and at the same time behave like a little girl. This had to be one of the weirdest relationships he'd ever had. How can someone take the role of your mother and your little sister at the same time? The same way an angel could be his best friend, his younger and older brother at the same time, he supposed. And Dean wasn't even sure he could really define his relationship with Cas yet.

_So I guess that means Cas gets first place for weirdest friend._

* * *

A few hours later, Dean left a peacefully sleeping Miel huddled under her blankets and flew quietly back to the living room.

The sight that greeted him there made him press a fist to his mouth to suppress his laughter.

Sam was passed out on the couch—it looked like all that staying awake had finally taken its toll—, but that wasn't what took him by surprise. And, on hindsight it sort of made sense that Sam would be so…cuddly? After the blind ex-angel had ventured out of the house while he slept. The big moose was practically latched onto Castiel like a kid with his teddy bear. Needless to say Dean gone to the rescue and untangled his friend by now, but Castiel seemed to be sleeping peacefully despite the breach of his personal space.

Not that Cas had ever cared about that kind of stuff.

A presence to his right made him turn away from the cute scene—I mean, come on. Even he could admit that it was hilariously adorable—to look at Bobby, who was leaning against the door frame with the same amused yet fond expression Dean knew was on his own face. With a nod towards the kitchen, Bobby motioned him away from the sleeping pair, and Dean zapped there to avoid waking them up. Because it wasn't like he'd taken a liking to this flying around thing. Nope.

Bobby caught him with a knowing look that made Dean smile sheepishly, "You're getting lazy, boy." He teased.

"Oh, like you wouldn't do it." Dean scoffed. Because, really. Who wouldn't teleport everywhere if they could?

"Just sayin'," Bobby shrugged. "You're gonna get flabby."

"Wh—" he saw the old hunter's lips quirk upward and pointed an accusing finger at him, "Not cool, man. Not cool."

Bobby chuckled under his breath, and then the light moment was over and it was time to discuss the important stuff.

"You gotten your head out of your ass?" Yeah, and Dean had to have a few words with the hunter about teaching his friend those kinds of expressions.

"Yeah," he sighed, running a hand through his hair, "I went to talk to Mel."

Bobby nodded and sat down, opening a new bottle of whiskey and motioning for him to take a glass and join him. "So your angel said." They both winced at the wording, and the old hunter sent him an apologetic look. Dean nodded and sat down across from him. "Any changes?"

Dean poured himself some scotch and downed his glass like it was water, making Bobby swallow sympathetically, "She's getting better." He rubbed his face, "Her fever's gone, and her breathing's back to normal. Looks like she's actually getting some real rest."

The hunter nodded in understanding, relief clear in his eyes as he looked back at Dean, "Did you figure out why she couldn't get past it?" he asked carefully.

Dean glanced hesitantly towards the living room, knowing that Cas was asleep but still not wanting him to hear this. Bobby seemed to get this and leaned forward, eyes sharpening with a frown.

"It was worry." Bobby straightened back. Confused.

"What? Cas said it w—"

"Sadness, I know." He sighed, "And it probably was, at first." Bobby's eyes softened. Because the idea of someone dying of sadness was heartbreaking enough as it was. "But what didn't let her heal was worry." They both glanced towards the living room again. "She was worried about Cas, about Sam, about Gabe and Balthazar, Elijah, you," he paused, guilt evident in his features, "…Me."

"So." Bobby brought him out of his thoughts, not one to let him wallow in self-pity, "What did you say to her?"

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, wondering if being an angel was the only thing preventing him from having a massive headache, "I just…told her I'd take care of it."

And it was such a _Dean_ thing to do that Bobby was already shaking his head. The boy really couldn't help it.

Dean saw this and glared at him, "What was I supposed to say, Bobby?" he hissed, careful not to be too loud, "She can't be worrying over everything. Not until she gets better." He sighed, his glare fading, "I can worry enough for the both of us. Besides, it's the least I can do." He paused, determination flaring in his green eyes, "Cas gave everything so that we could win. He deserves to have someone take care of him for once."

Bobby nodded. "That he does, the stupid featherbrain." He agreed. "But you don't have to do it alone, Dean. And you can shake your head at me all you want, son, but that idiot is part of the family now. And we take care of family." In Dean's eyes warred gratitude and doubt, "And I know that as soon as your brother gets some rest in him he'll be more than willing to help too."

Dean heaved a breath and gave in, rubbing his eyes before meeting the old hunter's eyes, "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," Bobby raised his glass before downing it as well, "Idiot's got a strong will, but he's close to breakin' and that wall he's built 'round himself ain't gonna last long."

The hunter-turned-angel glared down at his empty glass, worry already eating away at his grace.

"I know."

* * *

Meanwhile, in the living room, Castiel's breathing hitched, his forehead damp with cold sweat as the memory of Raphael's blade pierced through his dreams.


	22. Newborn Nightmares

**_A.N. _**_I apologize for how long this has taken, but it's midterms and after the battle with Raphael it's hard to write for slower times. I have an idea of what to do with the story now though, so hopefully I won't keep you waiting that long again. Also, thank you so much for the reviews! They really do help me :)_

**_Disclaimer: _**_Not mine nor will it ever be. Except for Miel. She's MINE._

* * *

_He couldn't move._

_Raphael was right there, ready to kill him._

_But he couldn't move._

_Castiel struggled against the invisible prison that held him still in the face of his murderous brother. Raphael was smiling. He relished in the anguish and the fear that Castiel was feeling like it was the water that quenched his thirst. _

_And Castiel still couldn't move._

_He felt his breath fall short, not enough air making it to his lungs as he struggled endlessly to move away from his death. A strained whimper left his lips as Raphael took a step forward, lifting his blade to run the sharp tip down his cheek._

"_You have disappointed me, Castiel."_

_Castiel blinked, and it was Lucifer standing in front of him. A new fear clawed at his heart as his older brother clicked his tongue disapprovingly, "Castiel," he drawled, the knife making it down to his neck, and Castiel's breath hitched in absolute terror, "You have been a naughty little fledging…" he moved closer, until his mouth was by his ear, "What would—?"_

"_Father say?" Michael whispered, and Castiel's blood froze in his veins, shivers raking through his body, eyes impossibly wide as the eldest of the archangels slowly dragged the blade down to his chest, "Little brother?"_

_The blade pierced his heart._

* * *

Castiel jerked awake with a gasp, feeling like he couldn't get enough air in his lungs. He could feel the phantom pain in his chest as it heaved, and the darkness surrounding him only made the fear that plagued him increase. He could feel his heart racing in his ribcage.

It hurt.

As he looked around in confused fear, however, he suddenly felt two warm hands take hold of his arms and he jumped, unable to hide the whimper that escaped his throat. But then he heard a voice, and it seemed like all the fear just ebbed away.

"Cas," Dean whispered, "_Cas_, it's okay. It's a dream. It was just a dream, you're okay, Cas, alright? Can you hear me?"

He nodded shakily, and while he knew that he wasn't in danger, that his brothers were not going to kill him again, Castiel found that his body wouldn't calm down. His heart was still racing. He couldn't get his breathing under control, every breath coming out with a shudder, almost a wheeze.

He heard Dean let out a long breath, and suddenly he wasn't in the living room anymore, and the sudden change of his surroundings, despite the lack of sight, threw him off balance.

* * *

Dean put an arm around Cas' shoulders as he felt the angel suddenly jerk like he was about to fall. _Yeah, that's thoughtful, Dean. Pull the blind guy away from his comfort zone without warning._

"Sorry, Cas." He had to move him though. Sam was still sleeping, and Cas was well on his way to having a panic attack. He'd obviously not been sleeping well, and that had to have been a horrible nightmare for Castiel to be so terrified. It was too cold to go outside, and Miel was sleeping upstairs, so Dean had brought him to the room he and Sam used to share when they were younger.

The angel—and Dean had decided that Cas would always remain an angel in his eyes—was trembling, his narrow frame shaken by endless shivers that only made his hitching breath more obvious.

"Hey," he said softly, sitting closer to the blind angel, "Hey, it's alright. You're safe." Blue eyes gazed at his mouth, still wide and scared like a child's. "It was just a nightmare, Cas." But despite his nods of assent, Cas still shivered, "Sometimes it helps talking about it." He offered.

And maybe that was hypocritical of him, since he wasn't one to talk to anyone about his nightmares, but he'd never really had to explain them to Cas before, simply because the angel had been the only one who really knew. And Dean knew that Cas had more than once kept his nightmares at bay, and so Dean would be damned if he wasn't going to do the same for his friend.

"It's—" Cas' voice broke, and he had to swallow a couple times before he managed to bring his voice back, "Raphael." He simply said.

And of course he would have nightmares about that twisted son of a bitch.

Dean's voice was soft as he tentatively asked, "…Did he kill you?"

Cas hesitated, "N—it was—" he sighed, seemingly frustrated with his uncooperative voice, "First it was Raphael." He finally said, "Then suddenly it was Lucifer, then—then _Michael_ and I couldn't—" he looked down as shiver ran up his spine again, making Dean tighten his hold on his shoulders, "_I couldn't move_. I tried, but I couldn't and he just kept getting closer and—" he let out a scared whimper as he closed his eyes, curling further into himself like he couldn't understand what his body and mind were doing to him. Unable to see Cas suffer anymore, Dean threw away his alleged 'man card' and just…concentrated on making Cas feel better. Feel safe.

"It's okay, Cas," he whispered, pulling Castiel closer to him until the mop of unruly dark hair was pressed against the crook of his neck. "You're safe now, they can't hurt you here." He assured him, closing his eyes when he felt Cas finally lean his weight against him, his warm breath hitching against the collar of Dean's shirt.

"He killed me," Cas shivered, his voice broken and quiet and so _scared_; Dean could only hold him closer, pressing his cheek to the top of the angel's head as a trembling hand clutched his shirt, "Michael killed me."

"That's not real, Cas," He pressed, turning slightly so that he could hold the angel more comfortably, "I won't let it be, okay?" He pulled away, holding Cas' face in his hands to make sure the angel understood, only to remember painfully that those deep blue eyes couldn't see him anymore, "Michael's still locked downstairs with Lucifer, and there's no way they're getting out, alright?" Castiel nodded numbly, childishly, eyes wide and focused on Dean's lips with an intensity so like the old Cas that Dean was overtaken by a sudden fondness for the angel in front of him.

Without much thought, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Cas' forehead. After a moment, he pulled away and looked down to see that Castiel had closed his eyes, his shivers finally gone. Dean knew that he wouldn't do this with Sam, not now that he wasn't a kid anymore. But then again, he wouldn't need to. Sam wasn't blind; he could be reassured by looking into Dean's eyes if he was being shaken by nightmares. But Dean couldn't help Cas that way; he had to be more tactile, more physical; and, strangely enough, he was okay with that.

_And wow, Dean, that was gay. _But seeing as Castiel wasn't shaking anymore, Dean told his inner homophobe to screw it.

Now that Castiel was calm, eyes still closed as Dean's hands cupped his neck, he took a moment to observe his friend closely.

Castiel had dark circles under his eyes, which meant sleeping had probably been more a hardship than a relief for the former angel. He was pale—paler than Dean remembered ever seeing him—and his face denoted the signs of malnutrition already; he hadn't been eating well. Dean had half a mind of feeling up Cas' ribs too see how bad it was, but he'd already invaded the poor guy's space enough as it was. Besides, Castiel's breathing was slowing down to a more regular pace, and he was becoming heavier; falling asleep sitting up, the idiot.

"You child," his eyes softened as he shook his head, a small smile on his lips as he slowly started guiding Cas up the bed so he could lie down, "Come on, buddy. It's way past your bedtime." Castiel's eyes fluttered open, blinking tiredly in his general direction.

"Sleep?" He mumbled.

"Sleep. Come on, scoot up." He nudged his side until Cas finally got the hint and slowly moved up towards the headboard. In the meantime, Dean pulled the sheets from under him and tucked him in (which he would probably deny to have done in the morning, but for now, it was just Cas and him, he could deal).

For all his lack of experience with sleep, Cas looked the part of a toddler nuzzling his pillow, his hair spiking up even more than usual, which only made Dean snort. "You like sleeping, Cas?"

Blue eyes blinked up towards him, more awake than they'd been moments before, "Yes." He answered simply, truthfully, and Dean actually chuckled, his smile widening as he sat on the edge of the mattress.

"How long have you had nightmares?" He asked quietly, because this could not be a new thing.

Castiel's brow furrowed in something like deep thought, and Dean surprised himself by having the sudden urge to smooth the wrinkles away.

"Since we got back…" he sighed, "But it's gotten worse lately." One of Castiel's hands left the warmth under the blankets to lie limp over the covers, a silent request that Dean had no problem acquiescing. Cas' fingers squeezed his hand gratefully, and Dean found himself wondering why he'd never really noticed how delicate those long fingers seemed before. Maybe because of the hidden strength they'd had…a strength that had deserted the angel, leaving him only with a mediocre human substitute for all that angelic power.

"Well, I'm here now." He said, and Dean was very much aware of how much of a chick flick moment this was, but he honestly couldn't have cared less. While he'd been outside brooding, Cas had been having nightmares, still at the hands of his dick brothers even after they'd gone away for good. He owed it to him. "Figured I should return the favor and help you sleep like you did for me before."

Cas' eyes widened slightly, and Dean's heart broke at the sudden hope in those blue depths, "You're staying?" And really, Mel had been right when she'd said that Cas' soul was brand new. Every emotion shined brightly, a beacon of untainted light that he figured was only seen in newborns and children. Guilt and protectiveness warred in his chest, and he tightened his hold on Cas' hand briefly.

He thought back to what Castiel had said on his little adventure in the scrap yard.

"_Dean, please, it's—you don't have to talk to me."_

"_You can avoid me, I won't search for you again but—"_

"_It's Miel, she's—. Dean, she's dying."_

"Yeah," he assured him, a sad smile on his lips at the way Cas' shoulders relaxed, "Yeah, I'm staying."

"_I won't search for you again."_

"I'm not leaving again." _I will never leave you again._

"So—so, Miel is—?" And Dean could see how much Cas wished he could study Dean's face for real reassurance that his sister was okay.

"She's gonna be okay." He smiled, "She'll probably be up and around in a few days."

Castiel's eyes closed and let out a relieved sigh, "Thank you." He whispered, his soul still shining brightly even as sleep finally claimed him.

Dean watched quietly as the rise and fall of Cas' chest became regular and glanced down at Castiel's hand, still in his own, before looking back at his friend's calm face. "No, Cas," he said to himself, "Thank _you_."

With his free hand, he reached towards Cas' face, hesitating briefly before pressing the pads of his fingers to the former angel's forehead, pushing him into a deeper, dreamless sleep.

* * *

Sam woke up to the smell of chocolate.

He squinted his eyes, willing his still blurry vision to focus. When had he fallen asleep? He frowned, sitting up with a groan. He ran a hand through the mess of his hair and rubbed his face, trying to remember.

He'd been talking to Cas, after getting him warmed up from staying out in the cold looking for Dean. He smiled, it had taken some serious persuasion to convince Cas not to drink his fourth mug of hot chocolate. Sam couldn't help but chuckle quietly at the memory of Castiel's childish pout when he'd finally taken the empty mug away from him and ushered him out of the kitchen.

* * *

_Once he'd washed the mugs, Sam joined his friend in the living room, amused to find that Cas was still wrapped up in his blankets, looking for all intents and purposes like a big cat curled up on the sofa, warm and pleased._

"_You look comfortable," He said, smiling at the big blue eyes that blinked towards him._

"_I am." Cas furrowed further into the blankets, "I like being warm." He closed his eyes, and Sam sat quietly beside him, watching him._

"_We can go get you those winter clothes tomorrow then, if you want." It was weird, talking about shopping clothes after all they'd been through. It was normal, boring. And Sam wished with everything he was that it could last._

"_I would like that, yes." They stayed silent for a long moment, both lost in their own thoughts before Cas broke the silence with a not of contemplation in his voice, "I think…my body is colder than a normal human."_

_Sam raised his eyebrows, turning where he sat to face him completely, "Yeah?"_

_Cas nodded, eyes lost on one of the old blankets, his fingers pulling on a loose thread, as though examining how it felt to the touch, "Yes. I get cold easily, even when I know I shouldn't be." Sam frowned, looking at his friend in concern, noticing how he pulled the blanket closer before turning blind eyes in his direction, "Is something wrong with me?"_

Am I broken?_ Was what Sam heard in the question. Looking closely so as to focus on the fallen angel's soul, his heart lurched at the doubt and fear he saw in it._

"_No, Cas," He assured him, with as much confidence as he could muster, "There's nothing wrong with you," He moved closer to his friend, knowing that Cas had taken to be comforted by physical contact, "It's probably…" he hesitated, not wanting to bring up the topic but knowing that he had to, "It's probably because your grace is gone." He said quietly, "All that warmth…" he paused. Once he'd become more attuned to his power, Sam had been able to feel the angels' graces…they'd been so warm, so brilliant. It was no wonder Cas felt cold now, with his essence gone, only a human soul left behind to sooth him. "Your body's just not used to being affected by the weather."_

"_Oh." Castiel looked down again, nothing but a quick flash of sorrow in his eyes, but his soul was heavy with pain. Sam could see it now, and cursed himself for not having thought of looking before. Cas may have been good at hiding what he was feeling before, but his soul—his _new_ soul—was still as inexperienced and genuine as a newborn's. _

"_Hey," He put a hand on the smaller man's shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly when Cas blinked repeatedly, his eyes glistening in the low light of the room. "Hey, Cas, it's okay. It'll get better, I promise."_

"_I miss my grace, Sam," He said meekly, brokenly, "I miss my wings, and flying, and…I miss being able to _see_." His breath hitched, and Sam felt his own eyes burn as he put a strong arm around the angel's back, "I don't regret giving them away…I don't." And Sam believed him; for all Cas had lost for them, he had never once showed an ounce of regret, "But I just…" he sniffed, and Sam's heart broke at the warring emotions in Castiel's soul—so intense, so pure and vibrant…he couldn't blame him for being overwhelmed, "I miss being an angel." He sank a little into himself at the confession, "Is that wrong of me?"_

"_No!" Cas jumped a little at the outburst, but Sam wouldn't have Castiel feeling bad for wanting, for feeling, for being _human. _"No, Cas, there's nothing wrong with that. You lost so much, in so little time…I'd be worried if you were _okay_ with it. What you're feeling is natural…it's _normal_, it's-" He searched the angel's absent blue eyes, wishing once again that they could see him so that he could reassure his friend better._

"_Human." Castiel finished quietly, and Sam smiled sadly down at Castiel._

"_Yeah…" he admitted. Once again they were pulled into a long silence. And once again it was Cas who broke it._

"_I have nothing against being…human," He said carefully, and Sam frowned slightly in confusion, "I don't mean to make you feel like being so is a bad thing…"_

_And God, the fallen angel was trying [awkwardly] to apologize. Like maybe wanting to be an angel would hurt Sam's feelings. He felt a rush of fondness for his friend and couldn't help but smile._

"_Hey, no problem, man." He chuckled slightly at the relieved surprise in Cas' face, "I know we're not exactly a pretty race, but," he shrugged, "We have our moments." He patted the smaller man's back, "I'm sure you'll like it better after you get used to the crappy stuff." And yeah, that didn't sound reassuring at all, but Cas still smiled._

"_I'm sure I will." He heaved a sigh, "Thank you, Sam."_

"_You're welcome," he replied easily, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his chest at being able to help. Suddenly, a yawn pulled his mouth open, and he smiled sheepishly at the way Cas' eyes narrowed upon hearing it._

"_You should sleep."_

_Sam rubbed the back of his neck, "I should." He narrowed his eyes then, mirroring Castiel, "But you better not go off on your own again, then."_

_It was Cas' turn to look embarrassed, and Sam watched in amusement as the angel's cheeks flushed slightly, "I won't." He promised, and Sam knew he was telling the truth._

"_Good." He nodded, then made himself more comfortable on the old couch before pulling Cas close to him, grinning at the surprised noise that escaped the fallen angel's mouth, "'Cause I wasn't letting you go either way."_

_His inner Dean was already screaming out GAY GAY GAY SAM YOU'RE SO GAY. But Sam just huffed and held onto Cas tighter, smiling when his friend finally let himself relax. He could tell Cas was exhausted too, so his excuse for keeping him in check was perfect to force the former angel to get some sleep._

"_Night, Cas."_

"_Goodnight, Sam."_

* * *

Sam smiled goofily at the memory, but it was only a second before he realized what was missing.

Cas.

With a small frown, he looked around the living room; Cas was nowhere to be seen. The smell of chocolate suddenly reminded him of the reason he'd woken up in the first place. He rolled his eyes, if Cas had managed to get someone to make him another round of hot chocolate, Sam might have to start worrying about an addiction.

But as he pulled the mess of blankets off him and walked over to the kitchen, he only found Dean sitting alone with a steaming mug in his hands.

Huh.

"So I take it you found Gabriel's stash," He suppressed the urge to grin when Dean jumped.

"You look like crap." Mature. "But yeah, I found the bottle on the counter and I got curious," he took a sip and hummed, "This stuff is _awesome_. It's like crack or something, I can't get enough."

Sam raised his eyebrows. "Must be an angel thing." He muttered as he pulled out a chair and sat down gracelessly.

"What?" Dean asked, looking down at his empty mug with a frown. Sam couldn't but to think of a certain fallen angel and smiled.

"The chocolate." Dean looked up with his '_elaborate, bitch'_ face, "Cas went through three full servings and was well on his way to asking for a fourth before I stole his mug."

Dean almost looked offended that Sam would dare to do something so cruel, his mouth falling open in a horrified gawking expression. Sam snorted.

"Where's Cas?" He asked, figuring his brother would know.

Dean nodded towards the wall as he stood up to refill his chocolate, "Sleeping. He had a nightmare so I had to put the whammy on him." Sam thought he heard him mutter something about 'dick brothers' and looked down at the table, feeling concern creep up once again. Had Cas been haunted by nightmares of Raphael? Sam suddenly felt stupid for not having thought of the reason why Castiel would have trouble sleeping.

He looked up as Dean sat back down, already drinking from his beloved chocolate, before he froze, putting his mug down and looking at Sam with a frown, "Wait. You said it's an angel thing but…Cas isn't an angel anymore." And Sam could see how much it hurt his brother to think about that, and felt bad for having said anything in the first place.

"Actually, Dean-o, that's not entirely true."


	23. Drained Batteries

**A.N. **_I...am a despicable human being. I don't deserve forgiveness. Let's see those rotten tomatoes; I promise I won't move much. I'll be a nice, easy target. Seriously though, this has taken way too long, it's embarrassing. Hopefully you guys haven't lost interest in the story. Please review so I can know if i can make a salad out of whatever you throw at me._

**Disclaimer: **_Not mine, never mine. Except for Miel._

**A.N.2. **_This is kind of a slow chapter so...sorry? Action sort of starts up again on the next one. But the story is close to being finished :(__  
_

* * *

"_Wait. You said it's an angel thing but…Cas isn't an angel anymore." And Sam could see how much it hurt his brother to think about that, and felt bad for having said anything in the first place._

"_Actually, Dean-o, that's not entirely true."_

* * *

"Gabriel?" Dean almost jumped out of his seat. And wasn't that pathetic. He was technically an angel and the real ones still got the drop on him.

"Hiya, boys," Gabriel grinned, "Longtime no see." Without even bothering to wait for a response, he flopped down on a chair beside Dean. A snap of his fingers and the archangel was suddenly holding a steaming cup of chocolate.

Dean eyed his own cup, then Gabriel's, then pointed a finger at the older angel. "Okay, you have got to teach me that."

The former trickster almost seemed proud for a moment, "Maybe later, kiddo." His smile faded, his golden eyes darkening with the issue they'd been discussing, "Let's get back to the matter at hand."

"Cas?" Sam asked quietly, "Is he…" He swallowed, "You said _'it's not entirely true'_, does that mean he's still an angel?"

Gabriel nodded once, "At his core, yes."

Both Winchesters stared at him dumbly. Gabriel rolled his eyes.

"Okay. Here's the deal." He took a long exaggerated breath, ready for a lecture, "When Dean took what was left of Castiel's grace," Gabriel felt Dean's grace shrink down like a scolded puppy at the memory, "It wasn't that he stole his grace completely, it was more like…" he turned his eyes to the ceiling, trying to find a good analogy, "Like his batteries were drained," He nodded to himself, satisfied with the metaphor, unaware of the memory it would bring to Dean.

He did however notice the way the hunter's shoulders tensed, and raised a questioning eyebrow, "It's just…" Dean shook his head, "It's the same thing Cas told me when he called me from the hospital after—" he cleared his throat, "After he banished himself and disappeared for a while." He looked at Sam, who had a constipated look on his face, "Before we went to get Pestilence's ring." Dean tried to remind him, but Sam apparently knew exactly what he was talking about.

"I remember." He muttered quietly.

"Well, good." Gabriel responded, perhaps a bit too loud, "Anyway, that's exactly what's happening right now. He's given up too much energy at once, which is exactly what I imagine would happen if one were to carve a banishing sigil on themselves." He sighed. His little brother was a genius, Gabriel had to give him that, but it didn't take away from the fact that the stunt he'd pulled back then had been pretty suicidal.

"You imagine." Dean echoed, right to be suspicious of his phrasing.

"Well, I can't speak for every rogue angel in the history of my family," He smirked humorlessly, "But I'm pretty sure no one's ever been crazy enough to carve a banishing sigil on themselves. Not to mention having the imagination it takes to think up the idea in the first place."

Dean let out a quiet chuckle, "That's Cas for ya." His eyes softened, "Never one to stick to the norm."

"That's a bit of an understatement." Sam breathed with a sad smile of his own.

Silence fell over the table, both new angels and the archangel lost in their own thoughts and memories for a few minutes.

Not wanting to remember the events that followed Castiel's return from that last desperate attempt to help, Dean cleared his throat and tried to steer the conversation back to its original direction. "So," he swallowed, "Cas' batteries are fried; that mean there's a way to recharge them?"

Gabriel grimaced, "Yeah, well," He heaved a breath, "Unfortunately, only time will tell. Dad's still out of the picture, so his grace will have to power up on its own this time. Right now, he's more or less like you were when you started on the angelic cocktail."

"Will he be able to see again?" Sam suddenly asked. When both Dean and Gabriel turned to look at him, the younger Winchester looked down at the table, "I think it's one of the things that's overwhelming him the most…I talked to him yesterday."

Rubbing his face, Gabriel shrugged helplessly, "Honestly? I don't know." He could already see the protest in Dean's eyes and so he hurried to add, "Even if he gets his power back, it was his grace itself that made his vessel blind in the first place." Both Winchesters' shoulders sagged at that, and Gabriel found himself trying to cheer them up a bit, "_But_." He waited until he had their attention again before continuing, "There's a chance that he might be able to '_see'_ through his true self. He'd be able to see things the way an angel in its true form can, which is nothing like the way you guys' eyes work, but it would keep him from bumping into walls. That's gotta count for something."

The way the hunters let out a breath of relief brought a small smile to the archangel's face.

"Yeah…" Dean breathed, "Yeah, that's something." The hunter-turned-angel ran a hand through his hair, obviously glad at that piece of good news. He took a moment to bask in the new information before turning back to Gabriel, "So, is that why you came down here or is there something else you wanted to tell us? How's everything going on up there?"

_Kid always did have a way of reading me annoyingly easily_, the archangel thought to himself, recalling his stunt with TV Land and the knowing look in Dean's eyes when he'd asked the archangel what side he was on.

"As well as it can, considering most of Raphael's troops probably feel like they had the ground pulled from right under them. Guys still can't believe they lost." He snorted, "Most of them are falling in line, though; they're used to following orders, and the reason they followed Raphael in the first place was that they were more used to seeing him in a position of power than our little Cassie-cat." Gabriel shrugged.

It was a miracle they'd had as many allies as they'd had in the first place, Gabriel had often wondered why they'd been so keen to follow Castiel. His quiet, little brother had certainly surprised them with his leadership skills in dealing with their small army.

"What about the rest of them?" Sam asked, that constipated puppy look back on his face.

Gabriel grimaced, "Yeah, those might be a problem." He tapped his fingers to his now cold mug, automatically getting a steaming refill. Gabriel took the time to grin smugly at Dean's jealous glare before adding, "It's actually the reason I came down here in the first place."

"What, you think they might try something stupid?" Dean's green eyes narrowed at the thought.

"Yep!" He replied, popping the p. "If your remember a certain pompous blonde at a certain grocery store—" He didn't need to go on to know that Dean remembered Adoniel, "Yeah. Those kinds of sickos."

"Awesome," Dean muttered, leaning back on his chair, rolling his eyes. "I'd been kinda hoping I wouldn't have to deal with another of those."

"Well, _back then_, you were just a little, puny flea, and _now_ you're a super-duper angel," Gabriel said cheerily, clapping him on the back, "It should be a completely new experience. You might even get to have some fun."

Dean glared halfheartedly at him before allowing a smirk to tug his lips upwards. "Oh. Before you conveniently poof away and leave us down here to deal with the crazy folk," Gabriel gaped in mock offense, which went completely ignored by Dean as he continued, "You should go talk to your sister."

The hunter purposely ignored his reaction to the suggestion, fortunately for Gabriel, and so he didn't see the concern that made it past his carefully built façade.

"I should. You know, I'm actually not sure if she'll be proud I'm actually back home or kick my ass for working so much." He laughed, although it was a hollow sound. "How is she?"

Green eyes finally met golden, open and honest, "Better." And just like that, half the load that had been weighing Gabriel down since the battle with Raphael disappeared, "She'll be up and around in no time."

"Good, that's—" Gabriel let out a long breath that ended with a relieved chuckle, "That's good." Taking a moment to rebuild the walls around his grace and heart, Gabriel's smile widened into his usual trickster grin, "So, now that you're almost on the loop, it's time to conveniently poof away." With a snap of his fingers, the archangel was gone.

* * *

"_Almost_ on the loop?" Sam looked at Dean disbelievingly. "Does he always have to do that?"

Dean chuckled, "Angel or not, guy's not gonna quit screwing with us just cause we're sorta family now." He shook his head at the archangel's antics and raised the mug of chocolate to his lips.

"Family, huh?" Sam raised an eyebrow, "So when's the wedding?" He smirked when Dean put the mug down, a chocolate mustache on his upper lip and looked at him square in the eye with his eyebrows almost at his hairline.

"Wedding?"

"Well, you say we're sort of family now, it kinda sounds like Gabriel would be your brother-in-law or something. Is it Cas? Have you finally proposed?" He managed to keep a straight face until Dean suddenly got what he was saying. A shit-eating grin split Sam's face as his brother went red in the face and spluttered indignantly.

Dean pushed his chair back and stormed out of the room before apparently figuring out that there was something he could do now that he couldn't do before. With a last glare at his brother, he spread his wings and flew out of the kitchen.

Sam's teasing had reminded him that he still needed to talk to Lisa and Ben. He'd discussed this with Gabriel soon after coming back, but hadn't really taken much time to think about it—because brooding outside the house is a very time-consuming thing—. He'd been too guilt-ridden with Castiel's blindness to stop and listen to what the archangel was saying, but now that everything seemed to be calming down, Dean knew Gabriel had been right.

* * *

"_Dean." The hunter shrugged the archangel's hand off his shoulder as he pushed his way out of Bobby's suddenly too crowded house. "Dean, listen to me." Sam was inside, getting his shoulder healed, Mel was looking around, pale and heartbroken, and Cas…_

_Cas was passed out on Bobby's couch._

_Human._

Blind_._

"_Dean!" Growing sick of Gabriel's meddling, Dean turned around, eyes lit up with grace as he glowered at the archangel._

"_What!" His chest heaved with each angry breath he took, and the sudden flare of his power—the power he'd stolen from his fucking best friend—was apparently enough to make Gabriel think twice before calling his name again. Good._

"_Look, kid, I know you're pissed and well on your way to sinking into one of your brooding sessions." Dean snarled, not in the mood to deal with Gabriel's antics, "But I'm gonna be upstairs on clean-up duty for the next month," That made the hunter pause. Gabriel was leaving? "So I'm gonna tell you this _now._" Dean rolled his eyes, but forced himself to calm down enough to listen to the archangel, "Oh, you got your ears on, good." With a pointed glare, Gabriel went straight to the point, "This is gonna seem a bit out of the blue. But, like I said, I have no time to wait on your guilty conscience. That girl, Lisa? You should probably start thinking of how to finish your thing."_

"_What?" Dean blinked. That had been the last subject he thought Gabriel would touch. Then, of course, came the anger. "You mean you're sticking around just to tell me that I need to break up with my girlfriend?" He seethed. "Cause right now's not the time, Gabriel!"_

"_Yeah," Gabriel snapped, "And like I said, I have no idea when I'll be able to visit your surly ass again to drop the suggestion, so listen up!" Golden eyes seared with anger at Dean's impatience, and the hunter's grace reacted to the archangel's greater age and shrank back. _

_Gabriel nodded in satisfaction before glancing briefly over his shoulder. Once sure that no one was listening in on their conversation, Gabriel focused his ancient eyes on the new angel in front of him. "You and Sam are not just human anymore, you get that, right?" He didn't wait for Dean to answer, "Sam's a reflection of Lucifer, so he's got some pretty impressive power in him. But _you_?" For a moment, Dean could see accusation in the archangel's eyes, and found himself taking a small step back, "You not only became a reflection of Michael, but you also absorbed an angel's _entire grace!_" Dean flinched, but Gabriel was on a roll. "So you can bet your ass the both of ya are gonna operate a bit differently than you're used to from now on. Which means powers, wings, and grace, sure, but it also means," he paused, his glare becoming pointed, "That _you are not aging anymore_."_

_Dean's eyes widened. The thought had never actually occurred to him. Something like that would not have bothered him a year ago, to be quite honest. But now with Lisa…_

* * *

Dean loved her, of that much he could be sure, but he wasn't _in love_ with her. Hell, he was pretty sure Lisa felt the same way. They cared deeply for one another, and Dean had become the father figure that Ben had always wanted. But both he and Lisa had been aware from the beginning that what they had was not born out of love or passion. Dean had knocked on her door, and Lisa had answered.

Lisa had _cared_. She'd taken time out of her life to try to piece him back together.

What they had experienced when they'd first met had made it easy to get involved. They had hugged, they had kissed, they'd made love. Their loneliness and need had served as the foundations for a relationship that had been as close to love as anyone could get.

But she would age. And now Dean wouldn't.

Sure, he could stick around for as long as it wasn't apparent that he wasn't getting any older, but that would only make it harder on Lisa and Ben when he had to leave. Because the alternative would have been to move to a different town every few years, and Dean would be damned if he was going to do that to Ben.

Gabriel's little lecture hadn't quite sunk in back then, and Dean had merely buried himself in his guilt and ignored the archangel until the other had given up and flown back to heaven to clean up the mess Raphael had left behind.

Maybe it was time he stopped hauling Lisa around with him and let her find someone who would be able to give her everything she deserved.

With a sigh, Dean glanced towards the house, then shook his head and spread his wings.

This wasn't a conversation he was looking forward to.

* * *

Sam had just finished cleaning up the mess of chocolate mugs that Gabriel and Dean had left behind when he felt a familiar grace behind him. Turning around, the hunter couldn't hide his smile at the sight of Bobby helping a tired but decisive Miel into the living room.

"I don't think you should be moving around just yet, kid." Bobby grumbled, a frown set firmly on his brow as he watched the angel like a hawk.

"Still older than you, Bobby." Miel answered, her face pale as she walked shakily towards the sofa.

Bobby snorted, "Well, that brother of yours has never complained." Sam could see the fondness in Bobby's eyes at the thought of Castiel. And truly, Sam had wondered a few times if it didn't bother Cas when Bobby called him 'boy'. "And he's older than you."

"Not by much." She replied stubbornly as she sat, but Sam could see the smile she was trying to hide as he leaned on the doorframe, watching the scene with a smile of his own.

"With that pout, you're not making much of a point," Miel narrowed her eyes, "_Kid_."

"Do you want me to call you _grandpa Bobby_, then?" She retorted, her lips curling with mischief.

"If you want some of that chocolate, I suggest you don't." Bobby warned easily as he stepped back.

Miel's eyes widened, "You wouldn't."

"Oh, he would." Sam finally said, pushing away from the doorframe to go sit next to Miel. The angel stared at the hunter in disbelief before crossing her arms and sinking farther into the couch with an indignant huff.

Sam and Bobby shared a look of amusement before turning back to Miel, who had let go of her pout and was now trying to relax. "You're looking much better." Sam said quietly.

"I _feel_ much better." She smiled, closing her eyes, "Now I just need to get my strength back, and I'll be good as new." She opened bright blue eyes to give Bobby a well-practiced puppy look, "Chocolate?"

To his credit, Bobby held on for a good minute before finally giving in, "Balls," He muttered as he walked to the kitchen, mumbling under his breath.

Sam and Miel smiled before settling into a comfortable silence, listening to the sounds of Bobby making hot chocolate in his old kitchen.

"Gabriel was here." The smile she gave him was almost as bright as her shining grace.

"I know. He came to see me." She closed her eyes, "I can tell he's working really hard to get things back in order. But he's doing okay."

The hunter watched her expression carefully. He knew that Gabriel's wellbeing had been one of the many things affecting her health. Seeing the archangel after weeks of getting no word from him must have taken a huge load off her chest. It was good to see her awake and on the mend.

Glancing down at his watch, Sam found himself thinking of the other blue-eyed angel in the house and turned to Miel, "I'm gonna go check on Cas, he usually gets up early but…" He didn't want to explain to her that it was probably because of the nightmares he'd been having for the past weeks, although something in her eyes told Sam that she already knew, "Anyway, I'm gonna go wake him up, I'm sure he'll be happy to hear you're better. Plus, I kinda promised him that we'd get him some clothes today."

She smiled warmly at him and nodded, and that was all the invitation Sam needed to get up and walk to Bobby's guest room.

The hunter paused at the door briefly before knocking, "Cas? You awake?" He waited for an answer but didn't get one. Intent on making sure his friend was okay but not wanting to scare him awake, Sam quietly opened the door and peeked inside. "Cas?"

A grin spread slowly over Sam's face as he spotted Castiel's messy dark hair from under the blankets. Stepping inside the room and closing the door behind him, Sam approached the blind angel silently. Knowing better than to try and shake him awake, Sam called his name again and waited for an answer.

The mound of blankets stirred, and soon enough sleepy blue eyes blinked tiredly in his direction. With a chuckle, Sam sat on the chair by the bed, "Morning sunshine."

"…Sunshine?" Castiel frowned in confusion, squinting as he tried to make sense of the expression with his sleep-muddled brain. His voice was graver than usual, scratchy with sleep, and for some reason it only made Sam's smile widen.

"Yes, Sunshine." Before Castiel could remind him that his name was not in fact Sunshine, Sam started on the reason he'd woken him up in the first place, "Miel's feeling much better. She's in the living room," He watched the former angel closely, "I figured you'd want to talk to her."

And just like that, all tiredness was gone from Castiel's eyes. "Yes." But as much as his brain seemed to have caught up with the morning, Cas' body was not up for the task yet, and the angel (now Sam knew that he could still call him that) was only tangling himself up in the blankets more.

Sam tried not to laugh, he really did. But when Cas finally gave up and stared morosely in his friend's direction, silently asking for help, Sam couldn't help it anymore. Still trying hard not to laugh, Sam burst into less-than-manly giggles that Dean would have had a field day with. Having a definite sound to guide his eyes, Castiel glared at him sullenly, which only made Sam laugh harder.

"Sorry, sorry," he snorted, "I swear I'm not doing it on purpose." He chuckled as he stood up and helped Castiel out of his death trap of blankets. Cas narrowed his eyes but nodded gratefully at him once he was standing by the bed. Sam placed a hand on Cas' shoulder, "You wanna take a shower first? I can start getting breakfast ready." He said tentatively; Cas hadn't been eating much in the past week, but Sam was hoping that now that Dean was back and Miel was getting better, his friend would start taking better care of himself.

"Thank you, Sam." Castiel smiled at him, that new human smile that made him seem so much younger.

"No problem, let me just get you some clothes." He searched through the old clothes that he and Dean had found for their friend and walked back to Castiel, "Here. We could get you some new clothes today if you want. Get a couple of coats so you can go outside?"

Castiel's blind eyes softened, and the angel nodded before gently patting the back of Sam's hand, "I'd like that, thank you."

As he watched his friend pad slowly towards the bathroom, Sam remembered what Gabriel had told them.

"Hey, Cas?" the blind angel stopped and turned towards him, his head tilted to the right in askance, "Gabriel came by this morning."

"How is he?" Sam was slightly surprised by the concern he detected in Castiel's voice.

"He's fine, Cas. He's okay, he just…" Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Cas started walking back towards the hunter.

"What did he say, Sam?" He could tell Castiel was starting to get nervous. It made sense, considering Gabriel and Balthazar were the ones taking care of the mess upstairs now that Cas was out of the game.

"It's nothing bad, Cas, don't worry. It's just…" Come on, Sam, out with it. "He said that there's still some grace left inside you. That you're still basically an angel you just…need time to let your grace replenish." Cas didn't say anything, only stared in front of him, and Sam wondered if he'd made a mistake telling him, "Well, he said it would take a long time but…but that maybe soon you'll start being able to see with your true self?" He wasn't completely sure how that worked yet, but judging from the way Cas' eyes suddenly widened, he figured the angel knew exactly what he was talking about.

Sam was about to mentally pat himself in the back when he noticed the tremble in Castiel's shoulders. Acting on instinct, he darted forward and placed a large hand on Castiel's arm, "Cas!" the angel didn't say anything as Sam guided him back to the bed. "Cas, what's wrong?"

Studying Castiel's face, Sam was horrified to see that his eyes were wet.

_Oh my God, I made an angel cry. I'm going to Hell for sure now._

"He said—" a shaky hand searched for Sam, seeking the contact that had become so reassuring to him, and the hunter held it without a second thought, "I thought I was…losing my mind."

…_Huh?_

"What? Why?"

Castiel let out a shaky laugh, "Because I can…I can _feel._" He swallowed thickly before facing Sam with a wide smile, "I can feel, so I can _see_." He said simply, like it all made perfect sense. Sam stared dumbly as Castiel squeezed his hand before standing and walking towards the bathroom with small but confident steps.

"Um…what?" But the angel was already gone, and Sam found himself alone in the room, gaping like an idiot.

* * *

"It's okay, Sam. You didn't say anything wrong." Miel patted his knee reassuringly, "To be honest I'm…kind of freaking out too?" She laughed.

"But why? What did I say? I mean…"

"Castiel can see." Miel smiled, "Not with his eyes, but…it'll be easier now."

"He said he thought he was losing his mind, though." Sam pressed, still confused.

She laughed again, a tinkling sound like music that soothed Sam to his core. "Well, he probably thought he was imagining it."

"Imagining _what_?" Seriously, why was everyone being so cryptic? Was Sam just being especially dense today?

"The way an angel sees when they're in their true form, without a vessel, is completely different from how humans see things, Sam." She explained patiently, "Our sight does not focus as much on the physical as it does on the spiritual."

"So, he won't be able to see me...but he'll see my soul?" he guessed.

"Exactly."

"But what about animals, or inanimate objects. I mean, walls don't have souls." He paused, then stared worriedly at the angel, "Walls don't have souls, right?"

She chuckled, clearly amused by how overwhelmed he was, "No, they don't." The way his shoulders sagged was almost cute, she smiled to herself, "But they give off a certain energy. Everything has its own energy, and that's what Castiel will be able to feel."

Sam found himself slowly growing fascinated by the idea, "That's amazing." He grinned, his mind already swimming with hundreds of questions to ask.

"It is." She agreed with a smile of her own, "Castiel's grace must have healed enough for him to start distinguishing certain essences, and he probably thought it was all wishful thinking. But if he's already starting to feel his surroundings, there's a good chance that his grace will be back to its original strength eventually, or at least fairly close."

"Is there any way to know how long that will take?"

Miel shook her head sadly, "Not really. He should be able to see fairly well in a couple weeks, but the rest of his power will likely take a lot longer to replenish."

"Oh," Sam's face fell and they both fell into silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

"Ramiel." Their eyes darted to the doorway; Castiel was standing there, his soul practically screaming with relief. He probably hadn't heard his sister laugh in weeks.

"Castiel!" Miel's joy gave her strength, and so she managed to stand and meet her brother halfway, immediately putting her arms around him in a tight hug.

Sam smiled and watched from the sofa as the two siblings embraced. He didn't know how angels were in Heaven, but he couldn't imagine that such shows of emotion were encouraged. It was good that they didn't need to be afraid to feel anymore.

Straining his eyes, Sam noticed something that hadn't been there a week ago. Deep in Castiel's pure white soul, there was a flare of blue. It was tiny, like the flame from a candle, but it shined stubbornly in the heart of the angel's spirit. The sight made Sam's throat tighten, and he had to look away to hide the moisture in his eyes.

Castiel was getting better.

"Sam," He quickly blinked treacherous tears away and looked up, his eyes meeting Miel's knowing ones. With a soft smile, the angel of joy motioned for him to stand. "I think you promised my brother to take him shopping." She grinned cheekily, and Sam just _knew_ that Dean would be ready to tease him once they got back.

"I believe I did," He answered anyway, placing a hand on Castiel's shoulder. "Let me just find a coat for you first, Cas."

Castiel nodded gratefully at him, and Sam smiled as, on his way out of the room, he looked over his shoulder to see the younger of the two angels sheltering her big brother with one of her wings as she guided him to the sofa.

* * *

"So," Sam started as they drove into the mall's parking lot. It wasn't much, since Bobby lived in a small town, but it'd be enough. "Do you want the whole package? Coats, hats, scarves, gloves…" He glanced at Castiel to see him squinting his eyes in thought, apparently surprised by the amount of things they'd need.

"I guess…" Blind eyes turned towards Sam, "Will I need that much?"

"Well, if you want to take walks outside, I'd say yes." He advised, "Especially if you're gonna stay out a long time." He stopped the car, then turned to face the angel fully, "Besides, you said you get cold easily."

"Yes." Castiel nodded firmly, like it was the most serious problem since the apocalypse. Sam smiled; it was kind of funny that the angel hated being cold so much.

"So then, why do you want to go outside so badly? I mean, I get that you're probably getting claustrophobic being in the house all day but…if you don't like the cold?"

Cas stayed silent for a moment, eyes trained on his lap before he answered, "Before…when I still had—" He didn't have to finish for Sam to know he meant _wings_. Sam Winchester, king of touching uncomfortable subjects, "I enjoyed sitting in parks…especially in the winter, when everything was covered in snow." He shrugged, "I don't know why, I always found it soothing."

Sam watched his friend sadly before forcing a smile, hoping to cheer Cas up, "We don't get much snow here…but we can take you—I'm not all that good with flying yet, but Dean is. We'll take you somewhere with snow, Cas. And you can…walk around for as long as you want." He realized now that maybe doing that without eyesight might lose its appeal, but Castiel smiled anyway, that small human smile, full of fondness and warmth.

"I would like that, thank you."

The tender moment over, they both exited the car. Sam immediately walked to his friend's side, and Castiel placed a hand around the hunter's elbow, trusting Sam to guide him. Keeping an eye for anything the angel might trip on as they walked, Sam noticed the way Castiel's head tilted whenever they neared a car, or if anyone walked past them.

"Can you see?" He stammered, "I mean—can you feel anything?"

Cas smiled indulgently at Sam's awkward words, "This is my first time here, so it's harder than at Bobby's. But yes, to a certain extent, I believe I can." As they neared the first store, he added, "People are easier. Their souls are much brighter."

"That's amazing, Cas." Sam grinned. He couldn't wait to see how much the angel's 'sight' would improve, he found the idea fascinating.

"I'm glad you think so," Castiel commented with quiet amusement as they stepped inside. Immediately noticing Castiel's disability—as much as it pained Sam that people saw Cas as disabled—an attendant offered to help them. The hunter forced a smile, and listed more or less what they needed, and about an hour later or so, they had a nice set of winter clothes and all the paraphernalia that Cas would need.

They were already at the cashier, waiting for the lady at the register to scan everything, when Castiel tensed up beside him, suddenly standing ramrod straight. Sam didn't have time to ask before he felt a flare of grace behind them.

"Castiel."

And it wasn't at all friendly.


	24. Peace

**A.N. **_Just apologizing again for being such a terrible person and thanking you all for reading this story at all. I promise I'll finish it. Just. Can't be sure it will be a weekly update thing. But with season 8 my muse is definitely back on the Supernatural train. Thanks again for all the support! _

* * *

"Castiel."

Sam immediately turned around to face the angel—Angels. There were six of them. Damn it—But Castiel didn't move. Tilting his head, he addressed the poor girl at the register.

"Perhaps it would be best if you left." He said kindly, and the girl didn't need to be told twice. The angels didn't move a muscle as she ran out of the store, only the three at the middle looked vaguely amused as she tripped on her own feet.

"Now, brother," The angel standing at the front of the group smirked. Pompous Julius Caesar look-alike. "Will you do us the honor of facing us?"

Cas took a breath before facing his brothers, and as soon as his blind eyes settled on them, the angels' expressions ranged from horror and disgust to cruel satisfaction, and Sam felt his burnt wings flare in anger for his friend.

"Hello, Vatale." Caesar's eyebrows twitched upwards as Castiel said his name. The blind angel's lips curled upwards in a small smirk, "I may be blind, brother, but your vessel's voice does not make your arrogance any less recognizable."

Sam smirked as Vatale's wings puffed up at the insult, resisting the urge to snort as the pompous angel sent a glare to his minions when they themselves tried and failed to hide their amusement at Castiel's taunt.

"Young Castiel," Another angel stepped forward, cold mirth in his eyes as he studied Cas. "It seems you have outgrown Raphael's teachings." If Sam didn't know any better, he'd have said the angel looked almost impressed. "I have not heard such disrespect from you since you were a fledgling."

"Sauriel," Castiel greeted with a nod, and Sam had to admire how calm he was in the face of his angry brothers, "I have come to believe respect is something that must be earned."

A third angel laughed, the sound sending chills down Sam's spine, not unlike the cold winds that whistle through the trees at night, "Then Vatale is most definitely not worthy, little brother."

"_Leliel,"_ Vatale hissed, looking more and more like an angry fluff ball, what with the way his wings were flaring up, "Quiet."

The other three angels stood firm behind the three talking, which immediately put them in the _mindless peon_ category in Sam's mind. They wouldn't be hard to take out.

_Still._

They'd sought out Castiel the moment they'd left the safety of Bobby's house. And already Sam could feel his grace burn protectively in his chest, spreading over his soul like a shield of black fire.

"Why are you here?" His voice echoed through the room, low in pitch and strong in cadence. A warning growl that immediately made the angels' wings tense and turn their eyes to him.

The stunt angels at the back shivered, the terrified whispers of the Fallen's name clouding their grace and making their vessels pale.

"We are here to bring Castiel to justice." Vatale proclaimed, chin up and eyes full of pride, "As leader of the rebellion that brought down our brother Raphael, and for having the…" the angel's lip curled up in disgust, "_Audacity_ to feed the human Dean Winchester with his blood and his grace." Sam's grace flared angrily in his chest, making Vatale falter, bronze wings pressing to his back.

"For such crimes," Sauriel continued, impervious, "He must be put to death."

"Castiel," There was no laughter in Leliel's voice anymore, "You, who advocate Free Will amongst our brothers." Dark humor roiled in the depths of Leliel's grace, "Face the consequences of your _choice_."

Cas took a step forward, and Sam found himself frowning, fear for the angel making his wings flare up protectively, but Castiel raised a hand and Sam's spirit was soothed. The angels seemed horrified by Castiel's control of Lucifer's reflection, but before they could call out the depravity of the trust between them, the blind angel spoke.

"Brothers," Hatred gleamed in their essence as Castiel's blue eyes stared ahead, unafraid, "I…admire your selfless righteousness," The smirk in Castiel's voice brought a smile to Sam's lips, while the angels' faces became twisted and disfigured in their rage at their younger brother's boldness, "But if I have not yet paid for my crimes against the Host," Cas tilted his head, "Then I believe it is our brother Gabriel, who holds the power and right to inflict such punishment on my diluted grace."

The disbelief in their faces was such that Sam regretted not having a camera to immortalize the moment. Instead he readied himself for the fight that was about to begin as Cas added the final straw when he nodded politely, "I apologize for the inconvenience," and turned his back on them once more, "Have a nice day."

Unsurprisingly, it was Vatale who broke first, wings shaking with barely restrained fury, "_You_…_dare—_" He was flying forward with his blade in hand a second after, surprised etched forever in his features as Castiel swiveled around and met his blow with his own sword. Making it look almost too easy, Castiel used Vatale's shock against him and slid past his defenses to thrust his blade into his neck with frightening accuracy.

"I dare." He snarled as he pushed Vatale to the ground. Blind eyes looked unblinkingly towards his horrified brothers as the dying angel's grace exploded out and scorched his wings into the tiled floor. Wiping his bloodied blade on the sleeve of his old coat, Castiel once again stood strong before his dick-brothers and raised an expectant eyebrow, "Well?"

Looking on with pride, Sam pulled out Lucifer's blade as the angels roared in fury and lunged forward, intent on avenging their fallen sibling.

Sam laid waste to the peons in no time, kicking an empty carcass off his sword just in time to turn and meet Leliel's attack head on. The angel's grace reeked of fear and reckless fury as he tried to meet Sam's blows, but soon enough Sam had backed him into a corner, and he stood back to smile cruelly at the trembling angel glaring hatefully up at him. "Abomination," He spat, wings curling defensively over his shoulders, "Your soul belongs in Hell, with Lucifer and his kin, burning away for the rest of eternity."

"Yeah, I tried that for a while," Sam made a face, shrugging almost conversationally, "Didn't sit well with me."

Leliel pushed off the wall in a fit of rage at Sam's impertinence, but the swipe of his blade was met with empty air. Dark eyes searched for Lucifer's reflection frantically, only to widen as pain lanced through his chest. The last thing Leliel saw was Sam's blood red grace flaring in the Boy King's eyes, gleaming with satisfaction as Lucifer's sword was torn from his back with a sucking wet sound, and his grace burnt out of his vessel in a flare of light and agony.

Taking a second to catch his breath, Sam looked around in search of Castiel and Sauriel. He found them fighting toe to toe over by the hats and scarves. Admiration for Castiel's grace and agility even in his blindness swept through Sam's spirit, but worry weighed down heavily over his wings when he realized that Castiel was growing tired. The stubborn blue flame of his grace fading with every blow from Sauriel's blade.

As Sam rushed to the blind angel's aid, he felt dread clog his veins when Sauriel blocked Castiel's sword with his own. Sauriel's face was twisted into an ugly sneer and Sam watched as his younger brother's eyes widened when his opponent's hand was pressed to his chest. The power gathering on Sauriel's palm was clearly visible to Sam, and immediately he realized what the angel was trying to do.

"I'm afraid it's time to say goodbye, little brother."

"Cas!"

The smell of burnt fabric and skin met Sam's nose, but the expected flash of light that would send Castiel flying never came.

Instead, the gut wrenching sound of metal piercing flesh echoed through the room, and Sam's wide eyes zeroed in on the angel blade that was lodged in Sauriel's chest to the hilt. Letting out a strangled gasp, the angel staggered back, his blade and the one he'd blocked clattering on the floor, silver eyes staring in shock at the one that had run him through.

Castiel watched quietly as his brother finally fell to floor, a last scream of agony lost in the explosion of white light that seared his gilded wings to the ground.

"Goodbye, brother."

The blind angel's quiet voice was enough to bring Sam out of his reverie, and he approached his friend slowly, only now aware of the sadness that was seeping into Cas' newborn-white soul. So Sam stood silently beside Castiel as he mourned the deaths of his brothers.

"You had an extra sword." He commented after a long moment, looking between the blade still lodged in the empty vessel and the one lying besides Sauriel's.

Castiel offered him a small smile, "It doesn't hurt to be cautious."

A breath of a laugh escaped Sam's lips, and he placed his hand on Cas' shoulder. The contact seemed to break the spell, and Castiel heaved a tired breath as he leaned into Sam's larger frame for support. The fight had truly taken a lot out of him, and Sam cursed the rogue angels for taking away the energy that Castiel had so painstakingly gathered in the past weeks.

"Come on, Cas," he said quietly, quickly leaning down to retrieve Cas' weapons before guiding him towards the exit. "Let's get you home."

When Castiel tripped on a piece of rubble, staying upright only thanks to his hold on Sam's arm, the young Winchester felt his chest tighten with sorrow. Clearly the use of his weakened grace had made his blindness return, and again he felt a surge of hatred for the ones that had forced Castiel to fight.

Before leaving, Sam made sure to grab the clothes they'd set out to buy. It was a poor recompense for Castiel's newly lost sight, but he wouldn't let this whole mess be for nothing.

* * *

Dean left Lisa's house with a heavy heart.

Just as he'd known she would, Lisa had accepted his decision with a sad but understanding smile. Now that he could see the love in her soul, almost read it like an open book as she hugged him one last time with a parting kiss that he put all his being into, Dean knew for certain that she deserved better.

Ben hadn't been as understanding, locking himself in his room and refusing to let him in. But as Dean had exited the Braeden home, ruffling Eli's hair on the way out, he heard the thumping of loud feet on the stairs before Ben rushed out the door and latched on to his back.

Swallowing the knot in his throat, Dean turned around to pull the boy into a proper hug. He promised to visit as often as he could, made Ben in turn promise to call him for anything, and then both stepped away from each other, the tears on their cheeks ignored for the sake of their "manliness".

Before Dean disappeared, Ben broke into a tearful grin and told him he'd better take him and mom for vacation now that he was a member of Angel Airlines, and Dean broke into laughter and ruffled the kid's hair before spreading his wings and disappearing with the sound of displaced air.

* * *

The minute he made it to Bobby's, Dean knew something was wrong.

Miel's grace was quivering with an anguish that immediately clawed at Dean's own, shaking and heaving for breath as Bobby tried to calm her down.

It didn't take much longer for him to realize that Sam and Cas where nowhere in sight.

"What happened?" He demanded, falling to his knees in front of Miel, whose hands immediately searched for Dean. The hunter held them tightly in his, sharing an alarmed look with Bobby before trying to meet the young angel's eyes, "Miel? Mel, come on, talk to me, what's wrong?" When the only response he got was a distressed whimper, Dean pushed some grace into his voice, _"Ramiel."_

Wide blue eyes immediately focused on him, and Dean's own green eyes softened as he tried to calm her down once more, "Mel, I need you to tell me what's wrong. Is it Sam and Cas? What happened? Where are they?"

Swallowing thickly, Miel finally found her voice, "Sam took Cas to—to get some clothes, but—" Distress flashed once more in her grace, and her wings quivered behind her, "I can't feel him, Dean."

"Who?" Dread sank deep in his stomach at the thought of having lost Sam or Cas, "_Who _can't you feel?"

"Castiel." She whispered, and Dean felt his heart come to a stop. Taking a moment to swallow his own fear, he forced himself to look at her.

"And Sam? What about Sam?"

Shaking her head, Miel suddenly froze and straightened up, looking towards the window with wide eyes. It was then that Dean heard the rumble of the impala, and also turned to look at the window.

"He's here." She whispered. Then she was gone.

Dean spread his wings and followed her outside, ignoring Bobby's string of curses as he ran to the door.

As Sam parked the car, Dean felt his knees almost give out with relief when he saw Castiel sitting in the passenger seat; both of them safe and sound.

Both of them alive.

As soon as Cas stepped out of the car, Miel launched herself into his arms with a distressed sound that made Bobby cringe, her true voice seeping through the barrier of her vessel.

Castiel immediately put his arms around her, but his weakened state was made obvious by the way he had to lean on the impala to hold the both of them up. Letting out a shuddering breath, Dean met Sam's eyes. What he found in them was a mix of anger, vindication, relief, and reassurance that left Dean confused. But Sam could bet his ass Dean would ask him what the hell had happened later.

"Cas," First he had to make sure his friend was okay, "You go on a little shopping trip with Samantha?" He asked with forced levity as he walked towards the blind angel.

"We only went to buy some clothes," Cas told him, an apology in his voice as unseeing eyes looked towards Dean, "It was not my intention to worry you, Dean." And the angel really did sound tired, goddamnit, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, buddy." He smiled, "Let's get you inside though, it's pretty cold out here."

Apparently that was all Miel needed to take matters into her own hands, and she and Cas disappeared from view with one beat of her black and white wings.

Smile fading, he turned to Sam once again.

"What the hell, Sam?" His brother stepped closer to him, and it was then that Dean noticed the blood on his hands and shirt, "What happened?"

"Not mine." Sam was quick to reassure him, "Or Cas'." Heaving a loud sigh, Sam ran his hand through his hair as he looked towards the house, "We ran into some of Raphael's posse."

"Shit." Dean just barely caught himself from kicking the nearest object into space. Which would have been the impala.

"Yeah." Sam agreed, "They wanted Cas to uh… 'Face his crimes', they said."

"What? What crimes? Standing up to Raphael?" He spat angrily, "He was the one itching to restart the Apocalypse!"

"No, Dean," Sam was giving him the puppy eyes, and that never led to anything good. Because puppy eyes meant there was something to feel guilty over, and Dean wasn't sure he wanted to feel guiltier right now, "I mean, yeah, that was part of it but…"

"Just spit it out, Sam."

"They wanted to execute him for feeding you his blood." Sam said in one breath, looking away before he added, "And for giving you his grace."

Dean's face became a blank mask, jaw clenched tight as he glared straight ahead, his grace roiling angrily in his chest.

"You kicked their asses."

"They're dead." Sam's eyes gleamed with the essence of Lucifer's power, suddenly alight with pride, "Cas brought two of the big ones down."

Dean raised his eyebrows, a bark of laughter escaping his mouth, "He did? Of course he did." His eyes found their way back to Bobby's house, "That's our nerdy little angel for ya."

Sam chuckled, "_Sneaky_ little angel, more like," He grinned, "He was carrying two angel swords."

The elder Winchester laughed again, pride for his friend's badassery soothing his grace down some. But the memory of Miel's frightened words sobered him again, "Mel said she couldn't feel him. She was freaking out, Sam, we thought he was dead."

That flash of anger was back in Sam's eyes, "That's because he used up whatever grace he'd managed to recharge in the past weeks to fight those assclowns." They stood in silence for a moment, both their spirits shaking with anger before Sam sighed, "Dean, he was starting to see."

Dean felt his heart freeze at those words, as if his anger wasn't doing enough, "What?"

"Cas," Sam avoided his eyes, "His grace was starting to get strong enough that he could see through his true self, like Gabriel said. He barely needed me to help him walk, Dean and then—" He shook his head, "By the time we left that place, he couldn't take a step without tripping over something."

"Damn it," Dean growled, rubbing his face and looking back at the old house, "Damn it, Cas." His shoulders deflated as he made his way back, not bothering to fly inside because he needed the short trip to gather himself.

* * *

"Miel, I'm alright," He heard Castiel argue with Mel, his voice tired and gentle, trying to sooth his sister's distress, "I just need some rest."

"Castiel—"

"As do you." There was the no-nonsense tone of an older brother in those words. And Dean waited by the door, smiling slightly as Miel gave in and sighed.

"Alright," She heard the flutter of wings as she rose to her feet, her voice softer and without the desperate worry of before, "Sleep well, brother."

"And you as well, little sister," Cas said quietly, a smile in his voice as the young angel spread her wings and flew back upstairs to rest. "Dean." Damn. Busted. "You can come in now."

"I thought you were out of batteries again," He said, grimacing at his own words, but Cas only smiled and waited for him to sit on the couch beside him.

"That should give you an idea of how loud your soul is."

Dean settled next to him with a chuckle, glad to see him in a good mood despite what had happened, "Sam said you kicked ass back there."

Castiel's smile widened slightly, a small wrinkle on the bridge of his nose, "I think it took them by surprise."

A grin spread over Dean's lips, and he clapped Cas' shoulder with a laugh, "You'd think they'd be used to it by now. You're not just a nerd in a trench coat."

"I should find that statement flattering," Cas raised his eyebrows, posing his words as a question. But there was humor in his eyes, and Dean found another laugh escaping his lips.

"Damn right you should." He looked at the angel's new soul, searching for the little candle-flame of grace at its center.

Almost as if he could feel Dean's eyes on him, and disregarding all rules of personal space or manly interaction once again, Cas felt for the hunter's arm and took Dean's hand, then pressed it to his chest, just over his heart.

Over the little speck of blue that was his grace.

"It's alright, Dean." Cas assured him with a gentle smile, blind eyes searching for his face, "It will regain its strength again." There was hope shining in the angel's soul as his eyes brightened, "I will see your soul again."

For the second time that day, Dean felt a knot form in his throat, "I know, Cas." He resisted the urge to pull Castiel close for all of one second before deciding to ignore his stupid reservations. Putting his free arm around Castiel's shoulders, Dean's grace filled his chest with a warmth he'd never felt before as Cas followed his same instinct and nestled close to Dean's side. "I know."

Dark golden wings wrapped securely around the both of them, and Dean watched over Castiel as he slowly succumbed to his exhaustion and fell asleep. The angel's quiet breath lured him into an almost sleep-like state. The closest he'd been since he'd become and angel himself.

This was freaking weird.

But he could call Gabriel's ass down to Earth and ask him tomorrow.

Giving into this newfound sense of peace, Dean pressed his cheek to Castiel's hair and closed his eyes.


	25. Profound Bond

**A.N. I deserve nothing but hate. I'm ready for the tomatoes. **

* * *

"So. I hear you and Cas got all cuddly last night." Dean didn't have to look to know Gabriel's face was split in a shit-eating grin the size of his overcompensating wings.

"What about it."

"Oh, nothing. Just wondering if you know what that means." Dean had a pretty good idea, and he'd been meaning to ask Gabriel anyway (once he figured out the best way to do it without sounding like an idiot). But he didn't like the tone in Gabriel's voice.

"You're gonna tell me anyway, so why don't we stop wasting our breath and get to it?" Dean retorted, finally turning to look at the archangel.

He'd been right, of course. Gabriel was looking at him with his Trickster grin firmly in place. But there was something in the angel's eyes that gave Dean pause. This was serious.

"You remember overhearing me talk about your soul's bond with Castiel's grace?"

Dean nodded, eyes narrowed. How could he forget? It was what had finally clued him into the sacrifice that Castiel had willingly made for him and his family.

"You said my soul fought Cas when he tried to raise me from Hell. And that he had to brand me with his grace to get me out."

Gabriel nodded, "And that was the reason you could only take Cassie's blood. Your soul wouldn't take anybody else's."

"Yeah, but we've already been over that, what's that got to do with what happened yesterday?" Dean hated it when the angels got cryptic. They beat around the bush for hours to tell you something that could've taken a few sentences to say.

"You and Castiel share a bond—"

"A _profound bond_, yeah. That's hardly news. Will you just get to the point?"

"Listen, you asshole," Gabriel stepped up to him, eyes lit up with irritation, "I'm trying to find a way to tell you this so you won't freak out. It's not as simple as you think."

"So stop beating around the bush and tell me." Dean challenged, meeting the archangel's eyes head on. Gabriel glared daggers at him for a long moment before giving in, his wings sagging slightly as he sighed.

"A bond like that between an angel and a human is what your people have come to describe as having a guardian angel." Gabriel explained, watching Dean closely for a reaction.

"Okay, and?" Seriously. Dean had already figured that one out months ago.

"_And_," Gabriel snapped, clearly not happy with his attitude, "A bond like that between two angels is different, okay?" The defensive tone made Dean frown.

"So you guys…"

"Have relationships, yeah. It happens." Dean would have found Gabriel's annoyance at the subject funny had it not been for the pinch of dread in his stomach.

"...But I thought you were all siblings."

"Come on, Dean. If you really wanted to get technical, you'd be my brother too." Gabriel rolled his eyes, "Angels have no parents per se. We can't give birth, so God is our father in a more direct way, especially for me and the other archangels. But that doesn't mean that we all see each other as siblings in the same way you humans do."

"But you—" Dean wasn't sure he liked where this was heading.

"Yeah, now, in _my_ case, it's true. I do see them mostly as my younger brothers and sisters, but that's because I was raised to see them and care for them that way. I'm the big brother, the caretaker. The Messenger. Michael was the General. Raphael was the Healer. Lucifer was—" he shook his head, "Look, _the point is_, that not all angels see each other as siblings. Some think of themselves as friends, some as brothers in arms…" His eyes grew more serious as he stared right through Dean's own and into his grace. "And some come to care for each other in a way that's close to what humans would describe as lovers."

Dean gawked at the archangel, his grace swelling up in his chest as he tried and failed to deny what Gabriel was implying. "But I'm not—"

"If you say you're not gay, so help me Dad, I will slap you until your feathers fall off." Dean's mouth closed with a click, his eyes wide as he stared at Gabriel in disbelief, and what he wouldn't admit to himself to be fear. Seeing this, the archangel's eyes softened. "Dean," he sighed, "It's not what you think. I'm not telling you that what you're feeling will make you want to bone my brother," Dean grimaced. Way to sugarcoat it. "I'm trying to explain why your affection for him is becoming harder to ignore and avoid."

Dean swallowed thickly, thinking back to the night before and the unavoidable urge to keep Castiel close. But then, Cas had just been severely weakened by his fight with Raphael's fanboys. That was normal.

"I just wanted to keep him—"

"Safe. I know." Gabriel's voice had taken that softer tone he'd heard him use with the young angels in the house. "The truth is, beyond your nature as an archangel's vessel, your grace is a direct product of Castiel's. This goes beyond the definition of soul mates. No two angels in creation have been connected in the way you two are." Looking into the archangel's grace, Dean could tell there was a spark of fear for his younger brother in Gabriel's eyes. "I'm telling you so you understand the magnitude of this. Not even I can be sure of just what this will turn into. It's never happened before." There was almost a note of pleading in his voice as he said, "I just wanted you to know this…before you do or say anything that you'll regret."

Slowly, as he let the words sink in, Dean felt the knot in chest loosen. "Is this your way of telling me 'don't hurt my little brother or else'?"

The relief in Gabriel's eyes was practically another person in the room; a breathless laugh left the archangel as his wings sagged behind him. "Pretty much, yeah."

A chuckle escaped the hunter-turned-angel's lips, and Dean ran a hand through his hair. "Wow. Okay, so not what I was expecting when I thought about asking you."

"Liar." Gabriel snorted, a knowing look in his eyes.

"Don't you have some clean-up left to do upstairs?" Dean watched as that signature Trickster smile was drawn back on the archangel's face, shaking his head as Gabriel wriggled his eyebrows and disappeared in a gust of wind.

Thinking it wasn't a bad idea himself, Dean spread his wings and took flight.

He had some thinking to do.

* * *

"Sam?" The softness of Miel's voice snapped Sam out of his thoughts and made him turn around to face the angel. She was watching him from the doorway; head tilted in a familiar inquisitive way that made a small smile pull on Sam's lips. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," He nodded, making his smile widen with hopes of reassuring her. He should have known it wouldn't work on her. Her eyes narrowed slightly, and the angle of her head suddenly took on a challenging note. He chuckled. "Really. I'm just…thinking."

She arched an eyebrow, taking a step outside to join him in the porch. "About?"

His chest rose and fell as he heaved a heavy sigh, "I don't know…everything? These past few months…Everything that's changed." _How much I've changed_.

"Does this have anything to do with the fight from yesterday?" Miel approached him slowly, carefully studying his reaction. For some reason, it made Sam's smile soften, becoming more genuine.

"Actually, yeah. A little bit." His response was apparently everything Miel needed to close the distance between them and move to stand next to him. "I hadn't really channeled him bef—well. Not since Stull Cemetery. And that was…I don't know, different. This felt…bigger, like it was the only option." He searched her eyes, but she just waited patiently, lending an ear to his concerns. "Yesterday it was just…so _easy_. I didn't even really have to think about it, I just…It was like flipping a switch. Not even _that_!It just felt—" He floundered, trying to find the right words.

"Natural?" She offered, pulling a defeated breath out of the hunter.

"Yeah." He finally admitted, not quite ready to meet her eyes.

"You're worried you're turning into Lucifer?"

And there it was.

Just like that.

Dead on.

He didn't answer, but he could tell she knew that was exactly what he'd been thinking.

"I know it's probably hard to believe right now, after what happened yesterday," She said after a long moment, her voice quiet, "But you're nothing like him, Sam."

"Right, and the fact that the angels yesterday kept saying his name was just for kicks?" He snarked, not really meaning to snap at her, but too frustrated to censor his emotions.

"Your grace is a product of your connection to him as his vessel, and that makes them have a similar echo. But you have to remember that not many angels remember what Lucifer's grace was like before it became…tainted." There was that old sadness in her voice again, as she talked of the Fall. "Most chose to forget it because it was less painful that way. But I remember…and when I saw your grace, Sam," She turned bright blue eyes towards him, and Sam found himself lost in the light of their depths. "I saw Lucifer at first, yes, but it was the old Lucifer. The one before the Fall. Only later, I realized it was just…" she shrugged, a smile softening her features, "You. There's a reason you were chosen as Lucifer's vessel, Sam. You _do_ share some similarities. But all I see when I look at you is the good that I saw in my brother back then."

When Sam could only stare at her like an idiot, she rolled her eyes a bit, a breath of a laugh charming his ears as she placed her hand on his chest. "You're full of love, Sam Winchester." Her smile widened, "And such a strong emotion can only empower your soul and grace." She wrinkled her nose playfully, tilting her head, "So, yes. A grace like yours is definitely scary when you get pissed."

"So you're saying—"

"I'm saying your love controls your power to the point that threatening those you care about will make it flare up from a calm sea to a raging maelstrom in no time." She shrugged, "It's a frightening thing to see. But also…reassuring." Her eyes softened, and her smile filled his chest with warmth, "You make us feel safe, Sam. You make _me_ feel safe."

Suddenly, it was like the elephant sitting on his chest for the past weeks had stood up and left him alone. What was it with these angels…first Cas, now Miel. How did they know what to say?

"Thank you," He sighed, putting his hand over Miel's, pressing it closer to his heart. "Really, I—" He shook his head, smiling helplessly down at her, "Thank you."

A breath escaped her lips with the sound of laughter as she brought her free hand to his cheek, "Come on, big guy. You look exhausted." She smiled cheekily as she grabbed his hand and pulled him back into the house.

Sam found himself laughing as he let her lead him back into the safety of Bobby's home. And to some much needed sleep.

* * *

By the time Dean came back to Bobby's, it was already getting dark. He'd spent the better part of the day flying, from one nostalgic location to another, and then to places he'd only known from the short stories Cas told him of his search for God. He had to admit they were really…well, amazing sights. Breathtaking. It was no wonder Cas had looked for his father there. Deadbeat asshat.

As he appeared in the living room, he found the lights turned off, and looked around with a small frown. Where was everyone?

Turning to face the couch, he was greeted with a curious sight. At least he wasn't the only one cuddling with an angel in this house.

Dean smiled fondly, eyes soft as he watched his little brother sleep with Miel wrapped safely in his arms. Sam was such an octopus. There was no sleeping next to him without the getting the bear cuddle treatment. Miel herself looked pretty comfortable though, curled up like a cat next to him. Or over him. There really wasn't that much room on the old couch.

Taking a look around to check for witnesses, Dean took his phone out of his pocket and snapped a picture. Ha. Blackmail.

Big brother duties fulfilled, Dean left them both to their much-needed rest.

Now he just needed to find Cas.

Already he could feel his grace search for the angel's bright new soul, swelling almost painfully in his chest when it didn't find him inside the house. Glancing out the window, he felt a light tug in his soul and shook his head. Leave it to Cas to go take a walk outside at this time.

Using the time it took to get to the door to gather up his courage, Dean walked out of the house. As he stepped onto the dirt driveway, he was surprised to see it had started snowing.

_Cas, you're gonna freeze out here._

Taking a long breath, Dean let the cold air soothe his lungs and started walking, trying to find his friend.

He was about to start calling out the sneaky angel's name when he found him. It was then that he remembered Cas had always liked the snow. It was hard to forget now, though, as he watched the figure sitting on one of the cars in the yard. The difference between now and back then was the absence of the trench coat in favor of a thick winter coat, and the dark blue scarf wrapped around Castiel's neck. The sight made Dean's eyes soften, that urge to protect and keep the angel warm resurfacing once again.

Knowing that if he stayed still much longer he'd find a way to talk himself out of this, Dean swallowed his excuses and walked over to Castiel.

It seemed like Cas had not felt him come, for once, as his eyes lit up with surprise upon seeing him, and that new human smile curled his lips up, warming Dean to his core.

_Wow, man, you got it bad._

"Hello Dean." The familiar greeting made Dean smile. At least that had not changed. And Dean hoped it never would.

"Hey, Cas." He said as he joined him, pushing himself up to sit on the old car beside him. "It's getting cold, out here."

Castiel's smile widened as he turned to watch the snow once again, "I hadn't seen snow for some time." He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, "I missed it."

Dean nodded, eyes still fixed on Castiel. "My brother and I used to have snowball fights here, when it snowed. The few Christmases that we stayed with Bobby." He recalled, finally turning to look at the thin layer of white that was covering the metal carcasses of the yard.

"Did you ever make snow angels?" The question took him by surprise, making him turn back to the angel with eyebrows raised. There was a spark of humor in Castiel's eyes as they met his, the corner of his lips betraying a smile.

Dean laughed.

"Yeah, actually." He grinned. "But back then I thought angels wore dresses and played the harp."

"Sorry to disappoint." Castiel chuckled, turning his eyes back to the snow, the blue still alight with mirth. Dean's smile softened. It was still strange to see Castiel laugh, but the hunter found he wouldn't mind hearing the sound more often. He moved closer to Cas, making their shoulders touch and unfurling a heavy wing to protect the weakened angel from the worst of the wind.

As though he could feel the feathers around him, Castiel leaned slightly more into him, losing some of the tension in his frame.

"Cas?" He glanced at him after a while, waiting for the angel's hum of response, "I talked to Gabriel, earlier."

Castiel blinked and turned to meet his eyes, "Is that why you left?" There was no accusation in the question, only curiosity and a tinge of concern as Cas tilted his head.

"Yeah." He hesitated, taking a moment to gather his thoughts, "He told me…" Goddamnit. "You remember when you told me about our p—" He was going to have to say it, wasn't he? "Profound bond?"

The curiosity in Castiel's eyes was now brightened by a spark of amusement as he raised his eyebrows slightly, "Yes?"

Right.

Dean cleared his throat. Out with it then.

"Gabe told me that it's…it's different, with both of us being angels now."

Realization dawned in Castiel's expression, and the curiosity vanished as Cas looked away. "Oh."

"Oh? Is that…is that all you're gonna say, is 'oh'?" Not that Dean had been expecting much of a reaction but…more than just 'oh'.

"I'm sorry, Dean." Cas' eyes drifted down to his hands, "I didn't…I don't expect you to feel or act any differently. You have no obligation to—"

It took Dean a moment to realize what Cas was talking about, but when he did he felt something in his chest clench at every stammering excuse that left the angel's lips.

_Damn it, Cas._

"No, no, hey—" He put a hand on Cas' shoulder, but still the angel looked down and away from him, "I don't want you to apologize for this, Cas." He leaned forward a bit, trying to meet those blue eyes. "Hell, I was telling you because—" He swallowed, "Because _I've_ been feeling different, since—or maybe I just didn't see it until now, I don't know."

Castiel finally turned to him, eyes squinted in obvious confusion, "Dean…" _What the hell are you saying to me_? Went unsaid.

Dean took a breath and met his eyes.

"I uh...I think I'm falling for you, Cas." There. _That was lame. __Fuck. What did I just do_.

If he'd been hoping for Castiel to be the more eloquent of the two, he was slightly disappointed. The poor angel opened his mouth but no sound came out. Blue eyes studied the hunter in disbelief, and Dean could practically feel the fallen angel's heart trying to beat its way out of his ribcage. The hunter's eyes softened, bringing a hand to Cas' chest as his friend had made him do the day before.

_Dean, you're a fucking idiot_.

"Cas," He felt the angel flinch, "Cas, it's okay. It's okay, relax, man." He summoned a smile, watching as Castiel slowly calmed down.

"This…is not a joke."

"No, man." Dean breathed out a laugh, pain and amusement warring in his chest. "No, I'm being serious." He brought his free hand to Cas' neck and pressed their foreheads together, a reassuring gesture he'd often observed between the other angels in their little family.

Castiel deflated under his touch, his eyes closing as he finally lost all tension and leaned against Dean.

"I never thought…"

"I know." He smiled softly, "But you know me, Cas. I'm a little slow on the uptake."

A surprised (slightly hysterical) laugh escaped Castiel's lips, and Dean finally dropped all pretenses of not caring and pressed his lips to the angel's forehead.

"Sorry you had to wait so long."

A full smile lit up Castiel's face, his nose wrinkling as he shook his head, "I've been waiting for you for thousands of years, Dean Winchester."

Warmth spread through Dean's chest, "You cheesy little nerd with wings." He chuckled, pressing his forehead to Castiel's once more before pulling him close in a one-armed hug. Like hell he was letting Cas get cold now that the cat was out of the bag.

Castiel leaned close to him, and the two of them watched the snow for most of two hours, just enjoying the renewed connection between Dean's strong grace and Castiel's weakened but stubborn one.

By midnight, Cas had become heavier beside him, and Dean glanced down with a fond smile as he watched the angel sleep peacefully. Shaking his head, the new angel kissed the older one's head before gathering him in his arms and flying them to Cas' bedroom.

And if Dean ended up spending the night beside Cas, well. That was totally because Cas wouldn't let go of him because he's an octopus like Sam, and Dean didn't want to wake him up.

Yeah.

* * *

**...So.**

**Too fast?**

**Feel free to yell at me.**


End file.
